


It's always the quiet ones.

by CanisterMain



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Eventual Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, I'm Bad At Summaries, My First Fanfic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Romance, SAS are best bros, Self Confidence Issues, Shyness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:28:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 39,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23922361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CanisterMain/pseuds/CanisterMain
Summary: Mark Chandar, the smartest operator in the SAS and probably in Rainbow Six. A young prodigy.His knowledge could be so vast, but failed in a tiny little thing: Social interactions.He thought he could ignore it, until he saw Grace. He'd be lost on his own.Luckily he had the best team to back him up: the fellow operators from his unit.They couldn't mess everything up. Or so Mark hoped.
Relationships: Mark "Mute" Chandar/Grace "Dokkaebi" Nam
Comments: 1
Kudos: 26





	1. Rumor.

The workshop. A spacious place where all operators, or at least most of them, improved and worked on their gadgets: Breach charges, Nitro Cells, Drones, and their unique ones.

Thirteen work tables were displayed across the room, ready for usage.

Six were on one side, by the door and other six by a rectangular window, overlooking the base's backyard. Positioned in six lines of two, with enough clear space for any operator to roam around and not disturb another colleague.

The remaining larger board split the room in half, just in the middle. It served as storage for spare parts, tools and stuff.

Also used when people wanted to do teamwork, or when the gadgets took up many space, like Sledge's "The Caber", or any special shield, like Blitz's.

The workshop had very poor decoration, if any. A lot of burned areas covered the ceiling and walls, painted over with white paint, contrasting the rest of its dark color.

Many accidents took place here, mostly with explosives involved. Nearly all of them had Shuhrat and his Matryoshkas' signature. In his opinion, collateral damage wasn't important enough to care about.

In any case, a fire extinguisher was precisely on the spot, if needed.

Since destruction was his specialty, Six knew from the beginning: This operator wouldn't join any hostage extraction team, unless the situation required his peculiar _modus operandi_.

Six hoped that supposed scenario never get past VR tests.

Back into the workshop, a clock attached to a wall marked a quarter to twelve. So little time for lunch to be ready.

A lone figure worked there, in the left table near the window.

Masaru was concentrated on his drone, Yokai. Silence was key to accuracy, and he couldn't afford any mistake.

"Come on, come on..." he adjusted the upper right propeller. In the early morning, Yokai almost dropped his cup of coffee when it suddenly stopped mid-air. The drone could use some repairment.

Humming, another figure appeared by the door, and sat by another board, the closest to the big one.

Masaru managed to stay focused. Anyway, the hum didn't annoy him that bad.

After a while, of hearing the welder sound, which was also bearable, the hum turned into a singing voice.

" _Take oooon meee, take on me..._ "

The japanese blinked twice, his concentration interrupted. He looked where the voice came from. Jordan Trace welded some C4s for his exothermic charges, while listening to some music with his black earphones on.

He totally didn't need to make so much noise. Masaru was about to silence him with a serious warn, but caught a glance from a brown pot with a green cactus, a little away from his working spot.

Masaru didn't mind it much, as he had something planned to do. He stood up and took one step forward.

" _I'll beeee goooooone ... In a day or..._ Ow." During the climax of his song, he burned his hand with the welder. Bandages covered the texan's hands, so this could be expected.

Masaru smirked and returned to his seat, but his concentration was lost. He put the screwdriver aside, and decided to play a game on his phone, taking a break.

Yokai buzzed, as if it complained for losing its owner attention.

Many songs after, Masaru had to admit he liked to hear some of them, even though Jordan sang them all.

" _Put on the red light_...!" His fellow operator had the music loud enough to hear the rhythm.

" _Roxanne..._ " Masaru added unconsciously, his voice low. The Texan wouldn't hear him anyway.

After three burns and lost levels on the japanese's phone, Jordan finished two of his exothermic charges.

"Ah, at last." he sighed and stretched his arms, appreciating his latest creations.

"At last." Masaru repeated to himself. He hoped Trace would leave the place soon enough.

The japanese operator put his phone aside and got ready to work again. He still needed to put in Yokai a new spare, so losing time now wasn't an option.

The last days he had eaten nothing but bread and coffee, distracted by his beloved drone. He knew vitamins and proteins requirements, but skipping meals for work was worth it.

Even if he called Yumiko for help, she'd simply ignore him. His laziness made her sick.

"Hey Echo, going for lunch in a bit, you coming?" Jordan stood up, taking his recently made gadgets.

"I'll pass." Masaru answered. He didn't bother to look at Jordan back.

Jordan shrugged, used to this kind of reactions. As he approached the exit, he remembered something and took several steps backwards.

"Check this beauty out. Is this yours?" The texan chuckled.

"No." the japanese retorted, as he tried to regain his focus.

"I like this cactus, bud. It reminds me of my golden ages! Whose is this? Oh, here says... From Chandar, Mark. Whoa, is this Mute's?" Jordan seemed confused, raising his two eyebrows.

"Uh huh, I guess." Masaru nodded, his frown getting more noticeable as every second passed.

"Here's more: To Nam, Grace. Figures, this one is her spot."

Two tables and the large one away from Masaru's workspot, a full with stickers table stood.

Korean expressions and colorful figures, some similar to the Logic Bomb's logo, were scattered across its surface.

It stood out a lot to the dull-coloured others.

"Maybe Mark likes Grace, I don't know, but can you shut the _fuck_ up, Trace? I'm trying to work here." Masaru growled and hit the table with the screwdriver's bottom.

Yokai buzzed again, as if it were trying to calm his owner.

" 'kay, 'kay, don't get mad. " Jordan turned and left, humming a new song.

"At last. Peace and quiet."

However, Masaru, out of curiosity, turned to see the cactus.

Indeed, a two-armed small spiny plant stood in a brownish pot, on the sticker-covered spot. Its left arm had a reddish flower, giving it a touch of unique beauty.

Huh, Mark leaving such details to someone. So strange to be real.

No human being interested him in any way, be it man, woman or whatever was in between.

All his love seemed to be spent on his signal disruptor, Moni. His time as well, repairing, improving, or just hiding the gadget from Dominic, his german defender counterpart.

Several times their colleagues compared them for the relationship they had with their gadgets, but none really cared. Masaru liked Mark. Focused and only spoke when he was spoken to. Good enough.

In fact, he didn't see it as impossible.

Few weeks ago, Six ordered Grace to improve her Logic Bomb, and Masaru, to help her out. He was kind of interested on her work, so he agreed.

A field mission required her hacking, since her ability to see through enemy CCTV helped a lot with stealth.

At first, Grace was reluctant to do anything. She knew her gadget couldn't get better, with an untraceable and overwriting code. Sure, signal disruption hard countered it, but hacking had limits.

Nonetheless, she decided to show off to her japanese colleague. Masaru wasn't amused, and pointed every error it could get. Like a newly made counter-hack.

Grace took that as a challenge, proving she could beat anything he could bring into. They both started coming to the workshop regularly and work/compete together on the large table.

Everything went as usual. Many operators came, worked and left, as they did normally. Well, all but one.

"Hello, Mark!" the korean girl smiled as she waved at him.

The first time she did that, Masaru was caught off guard.

Since when Grace called Mark by his name? Only SAS members did that. The rest of the base addressed him by his codename, probably because they shared with him nothing more than a colleague relationship, with few exceptions. Like Chul, but he didn't talk much. Maybe less than the young brit.

Masaru looked at each with his eyes narrowed. Something odd was going on.

Mark didn't make any sound and replied with a slow nod, then deep silence. His expression remained hidden behind his gas mask, the adhesive tape making an X included.

He kept coming to the workshop everyday. His jammer and personal working tools alongside, avoiding getting near to the large board.

No matter which situation the workers were on, Mark always ended up looking at Grace. Nearly staring. Like a shy admirer or a creepy stalker, he could be any with his face always covered.

However, Mark was quick enough to turn away when the korean girl tried to look back at him.

As days passed, Masaru began to care less about it. If Mark ended up getting caught, it was his business. However, Grace had to be blind to not notice.

Their last day scheduled, the korean hacker got lipstick and a bit of makeup. Or more than she had before, Masaru had no idea.

He didn't make a single comment and tried to work as usual.

The same scenario repeated, greeting and then absolute silence from Mark.

Masaru sighed, it showed signs to be another day of third wheel discomfort.

He made his usual attempt to ignore them, but a sudden thought made him stop. What if she...? Damn.

"Uh, Grace." Masaru called. He glanced at her narrowly with the corner of his eyes and kept typing randomly, as he tried to look casual.

"Hm? What's wrong?" She turned to him, and stopped typing on her laptop for a moment.

The japanese sighed in relief. No puppy eyes, no dilated pupils, no fake smile. At least having read Yumiko's teen magazine proved to be useful.

Masaru wouldn't have known how to act otherwise. Besides, he had been in love before, and now he didn't have the time for that kind of crap.

"No, it's nothing." he shook his head.

Masaru felt Mark's gaze on himself, but he shrugged. Soon the usual "stare - look adorable" exchange returned and swarmed the atmosphere.

The project went swimmingly, as it improved her code by a fair amount.

A weird sound returned him to the loneliness of the workshop. His stomach just growled, so he considered speeding up his work.

"But when did he leave it here?" Masaru wondered.

Mark always tried to learn Taina's step and go unnoticed where he went. If his drone had him busy, he wouldn't have noticed anything at all.

" _So original, Mute._ " Masaru shook his head and turned away from the plant. He focused again on Yokai.

The four propelled drone buzzed. As if it were happy to receive the spare it so badly needed.

* * *

Despite the sun being near to its highest point in the sky, darkness covered the first floor sleeping quarters' hallway. The few light came from the window at the end, which gave a shy view of the garden, as it got greener after a long winter.

The first teams to join Rainbow lived here, as they were all rooms with four cramped bedrooms inside, including a living room.

The rest lived on the smaller rooms around the base. Most were on the second floor, with two exceptions, located on the first. It had space up for two people, so it didn't seem like a coincidence the fact of bringing two operators when a new operation started.

Each door had a metal plate with a name according to the residents inside. The SAS had a United Kingdom flag just below. The GSG-9 had a Germany one, the GIGN, a French and so on.

A door after a door the sequence continued. In the middle of the corridor, in front the FBI SWAT shared room, there was a showcase. A place for Rainbow's news.

Or at least that was the idea, because now a message to the chat group solved the problem easy enough.

However, Jäger's birthday party invitation still hanged in there. Alexsandr, attached to the old habits, gladly made it. They became good friends after the outbreak in New Mexico.

The room two doors to the right was occupied by the SAS members. A sign that said: "Special Air Service" had below "Layza soights" written in indelible black ink. A korean signature was just beside.

Voices came through that door, interrupting the silence reign in the corridor.

"Why does the old man take so long? I'm hungry." Seamus' deep voice asked.

"Perhaps breakfast got him sick." answered Mark's muffled voice.

"Great, James left without us." A door closing sound was heard. "Let's get going, the old man will take an hour or two to get out of there."

This time another door opened, and another voice came up.

"Because I do have hair and beard to take care of." Mike growled. "And stop calling me old!"

"You have hair yet, old man. Can we go now?"

"Give me a sec, let me dry myself off."

A gray cat came to the door of the SAS room, as quiet as cat feet could be.

Upon hearing the voices, he stopped and sat, moving his tail to each side.

"Will you go with the mask on again to get lunch, Mark?" Mike asked, his tone filled with annoyance.

"It doesn't bother anyone, if that's what you mean." Mark replied, bored as usual.

"Oi, Baker, did you hear the latest news?" Seamus said, curving a smirk.

"Oh, a gossip? Which one? Just say it, Cowden."

"My super reliable source of information assures me that a certain korean..."

"Huh, I think I know already. It involves someone around here, right?"

"Yep, thought it was pretty obvious."

The silence lasted a few seconds.

"What?" Mark asked with awkward tone, and louder than usual.

Seamus and Mike laughed.

"Look kid, when I was young..."

"You had a lot of girlfriends. I know that cliche, old man." Mark snapped . His tone died as he spoke.

"I did, Mute. And I'm not old. I'm middle-aged."

"You sure? I don't think that's..." Cowden objected.

"Shut up, Cowden. Going back to the subject, have you already tried asking her out?"

"Who? I don't know what you are talking about, Thatcher." Mark tried to suppress his nerves, but his voice changed now to a higher pitch, making it more obvious than before.

"We're talking about your korean bombshell Dokkaebi." Seamus replied, emphasizing each word.

Mark gulped. He expected it, but couldn't get ready enough.

"Son, don't make it harder for yourself. Have you talked to her, invited her out, something?"

Silence took over the place, again. Mark snorted.

"I gave her a cactus, happy?"

"A cactus. Seriously?" Seamus frowned.

"Well, it's not a bad idea, if she likes it and as long as you've given it to her personally." Mike conceded.

"Oh, actually..." Mark took a lingering pause. "I left it in her spot at the workshop"

"You couldn't give it to her yourself? Oh, man up Mark!" Seamus snapped, disappointed.

"Really? A gift out of the blue? Grace would think I'm a weirdo..."

"And you think what you did changed any of that, huh? Unexpected presents discomforts women, just for you to know."

"Uh..."

"That's not always true, Cowden."

"Well, it's not when you at least know the girl."

"Wait, wait, Didn't you have talked to her before?" Mike asked, his tone a little doubtful. "Besides your _bloody_ single syllable answers." he added.

A moment of silence passed, as one of the residents inside took a deep breath.

"No." Mark's voice sound frustrated. "And I don't know even why I'm telling you this." The screech of a sofa being pushed back was heard through the door.

The cat flinched, as the footsteps got closer. He raised his tail, and took a pose to run away.

"Stop right there, Mute." Mike's tone stayed calm. He usually was bossy as hell, but this time he kept his composure. "I just wanna help. Plus, it'd be great if the woman whose goal in life is making her colleagues rage over and over again with _shitty_ pranks, finds another way of entertainment, and that could be you."

The pet relaxed his tensed muscles, as the footsteps got away.

"Let's look at the bright side." Mike continued. "Maybe Grace in some way likes plants."

"Yeah, maybe. Hope dies last." Seamus said, with an easier tone.

"Well, come here and sit down. The first and only thing you need to know is that there's no such thing as impossible woman. Only you make the possibilities."

"But don't get cocky or you'll win plenty of slaps on the face. As I'm told." Seamus snorted.

"The possibilities I talk about are many, but for me there are only two. The first, I know we all here earn the same so money won't get you anywhere. Unless you're looking for just a lay."

The air felt heavier for an instant.

"No."

"Well, you decided for the really hard way. I don't know about the other possibility because since I met you the only female you've spoken to, apart from the previous Six, is Twitch, with that stupid mask on."

"Does that matter?" Mark asked, interrupting Mike.

"Nope. What matters is that I don't know if you have any experience talking to women."

"It's like he's afraid of them, right?" Seamus said amused.

"Now, kid, I need to know how many resources do you count on, besides your crappy face. Did you have a girlfriend in high school?"

"No, never got interested. I was twelve when I graduated high school." Mark replied bitterly.

"Alright, in college?" Mike insisted for some positive info. His faithful tone weakened.

"I don't think twenty-year-old girls are interested in fourteen year-old-lads."

"Have you ever talked to ANY girl before joining the Service?" The old man lost his calm for emphasis on one word.

"No. Romantically, no." Mark clarified, clenching his teeth.

"Awesome. We're at about... Ah, zero percent of progress. Nicely done, Mark."

The cat approached the door again, put his two front paws on and began to scratch it.

"It must be Bandit's cat, James feeds him sometimes." Mark spoke up, trying to change the subject.

Deeper steps than earlier got close to the door. It swung open.

"Get out!" Mike hit the floor with the sole of his right boot.

The cat ran away terrified. The opened door let see the SAS' small living room, painted in dark blue.

Two armchairs, a couch and a small rectangular table all over the parquet floor. No windows were around, but the little one the bathroom had.

The bathroom split in two the room. To the right, an abstract painting hanged on the wall, and a door which had a wooden sign engraved, saying "Smoke".

Few inches next to it, another wall started. In the middle another brown door stood, which had another sign, saying "Mute".

The other half mirrored the first, with "Thatcher", beside the bathroom, and "Sledge", the other one. A circle lamp hanged on the center of the ceiling, always turned on, as sunrays practically never reached that place.

Seamus sat on the couch, turning his back to the bathroom. It had a large cover over it, protecting from the possible humidity. Mark, with his CBRN gas mask on, sat on an armchair, the one in front of his own room. Both pair of eyes were on the old man.

"I dunno why you hate cats, man. You are a lot like them, if I recall well." Seamus pointed out.

"Huh?" Mike turned and crossed his arms.

The scotsman grinned and took a tiny object out of his pocket, and turned it on, firing a red light to Mike's forehead. He had it with him all the time, though he never used it as an attachment for his rifle.

"Boom, headshot."

Mark let out a brief chuckle. Mike looked at the young brit and raised an eyebrow. His laugh was extremely rare to hear. Seamus had the same surprised reaction, and aimed the red laser to Mark.

"Ha, someone's changing." the old brit leaned against the door frame, smirking. "Marky falling for that korean demon. Who would've known."

"Just falling you say? Nah, she charmed him all the way around." The Scotsman shook the laser all over Mark's chest.

"For real?"

Mark tried to keep his stoic body language, but felt rattled with his roommates' comments. Was he that _obvious_? He haven't showed interest at all!

Mike's stomach growled, interrupting Seamus' incoming positive answer.

"Don't you think we're done here, kid. Today it's the Germans' turn to serve lunch. Let's go." he turned to the hallway. "Cowden, turn that _fooking_ thing off. Don't make me say it again."

He immediately aimed the laser to the corridor, just for Mike to see.

"Aye aye. I am sure Blitz and IQ will manage to do something edible." Seamus turned off and put the little laser pointer back to his pocket and followed, but stopped and peeked through the door. "Hey, Mark!"

"Oh, coming." he replied, distracted by his own thoughts.

Mark followed Seamus to the corridor, and closed the door.

"As long as Bandit doesn't touch the food..." Mike's voice sound a little far now, diminished by distance.

"Hey, who gave the idea of the cactus?" asked Seamus as the sound of his steps halted. "I know you are smart enough to not begin your courting like that."

"Uh..."

"Just tell me. I'll know anyway."

"It was... James' idea." Mark walked off behind Mike, with a fast pace. He didn't want to see the scotsman reaction.

"Oh, man, from zero progress... It's now minus one."


	2. Spines.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some memories, and a pot with a cactus.

The shooting gallery. The second largest room in the base.

It was divided by shooting booths, lockers and a modification board. The latter had a big silver painted wall behind, showing off a lot of weapons attached on, as rifles, handguns, shotguns, SMGs and a lone LMG.

Anyone could use these, allowing every operator to practice on every weapon possible. Of course they were keen on one, or two in some cases, but in the field, things could go south pretty quickly.

However, the operators did it more for fun, because in a real life situation, they had abysmal chances of survival with lost gear.

The lockers were located to each side of the board, not being sorted by anything in particular. In there, each operator had their preferred weapons, just to keep the place clear enough. If not, this place would be swarmed by firing power.

The booths, several meters in front of the modification board, had capacity for eight operators. Each had their own man-shaped target, which could get nearer or further. It depended on the user.

Grace Nam occupied the third booth from the left, and Elena the fourth, just beside.

"You're lucky, Grace. Mark's all head over heels for you."

"Seriously, Mira?"

"If he wasn't that shy, I'd make a move on him _every night_."

The defender was already finished, her target's bullseye full of holes. She stayed as company to Grace, who was in the middle of her usual practice, but didn't shoot any bullet.

The Korean kept aiming with her rifle, but her mind seemed a little bit off. She took away the sight of her right eye, forced a blink and aimed again.

Both wore headphones, for safety rules, due the shots Grace was supposed to be making.

"Make up your mind, Grace. If you keep doing nothing, some other sexy specialist could snatch Mark from your grasp." Elena remarked, as her SMG's short compensator cooled down.

Grace snorted and missed her first shot made after her break. She couldn't help but feeling annoyed at the comment of her fellow operator, even if it was only a joke. Assuming that was what it was.

"I dunno what you're talking about, but if I were with Mark..." She peeked the other booth and winked. "I wouldn't worry about you."

"Dream on, Dokk." The spaniard chuckled.

Elena released the mag on her weapon to see how many bullets it had left. Empty.

She decided to go to the modification board. Its drawers had enough mags and bullets to last a lifetime.

" _Mark and Grace sitting in a tree_..." she sang with a soft voice, as she walked.

The korean smiled, and wondered how they went from talking in double sense to singing a childish song. She aimed again to her target and made a hole, where it was supposed to be a man's head.

Timur Glazkov came into the room, his step relaxed and confident.

He nodded at Elena, as they exchanged eye contact.

"Hey Glaz." She merely moved her lips, not making any noise.

The Russian, who wore his characteristic headphones beside his usual dark green uniform, picked up the parts of his sniper rifle from his locker, an assembled them on the board.

Elena was about to prepare her secondary weapon, but watching her colleague brought her an idea.

Timur got ready in no time and grabbing a pair of mags, went to practice himself, three booths of distance from Grace.

For a long while, the shooting resounded across the room.

Elena began to test another parts in her SMG, as a new shipment had arrived a few days ago. She personally didn't like extended barrels, but chose to give it a shot in the end.

The three started doing target practice, the first one running out of ammo being Elena.

Sooner or later, the others had to run out of ammo, so everyone ended up on the board, refilling the mags.

"So, you and Mute, huh?" Timur broke the silence, as Grace got close. They shared similar ammo caliber for their weapons.

"What? What are you talking about?" She blinked and turned to him, completely off guard.

"Apparently Mira's voice can go through the walls."

"Hey, that's rude, Timur." the spaniard shook her head, narrowing her eyes to him, slightly offended. Then she chose to examine another reflex sight, ignoring the previous comment.

"Why are you matching me with Mark out of nowhere?" Grace questioned, forcing a frown.

"Uh, because of what you did at Jä...?" Timur replied, raising an eyebrow and tilting his head to left. He felt like he was saying something obvious.

"Shush, Glazkov!" Elena interfered, a little bit too late.

"What, doesn't she know yet?"

"Of course not!"

"Really?"

"Wait, what are you two talking about?" Grace interrupted, looking to the other two.

"Nothing, Grace. It's nothing." Elena tried to look focused on her weapon with its new attachments.

"Oh. If you don't wanna tell me, _fine_." She returned to her booth, one step at a time. Her braids swung as she turned. Her tone, besides being calm, was creepy. Creepy as hell.

"Okay, Okay. It was last week at Jäger's party, you and I were drinking on the balcony. Then you saw him with..."

"Come now, the story is better than that, let me." Glaz smirked, and put his gun away. He showed signs to be remembering, for a short moment.

"Ooooh, the artist." Grace hissed with irony. She jumped onto the board, and sat, leaning her rifle's butt on the floor, preparing to listen.

**-Flashback-**

On the second floor of the base, Jäger's party was celebrated in the entertainment room.

He didn't use to enjoy social events, but the idea thrilled his closest companions, Dominic and Elias.

Few operators weren't here. Even Mark was hanging around, chatting occasionally with his fellow members of his unit, and drinking, more coke than alcohol itself.

Some played cards, enjoying themselves without saying much. Poker between the Spetsnaz and the FBI SWAT seemed to be serious, at least until the end of the round.

Others watched James vs Marius match in a dance game. The SAS member took the lead at first because he knew how to move, but the German learned fast enough, allowing him to catch up.

Far enough, on the pool table, Craig, Mike, Gustave and Aria played 8-ball teamed up, with a comment here and there.

The meeting could have gone unnoticed, until the strong drink arrived.

Two hours later, the survivors still drank from Alexsandr's vodka. He was passed out on the three-seater couch, near the gaming consoles. He had drunk way too past his high tolerance.

Lera and Maxim helped him until they were sure he didn't have any problem breathing. Or living.

It would appear that the old Russian defender had taken out his legendary reserve, which was rumored to be endless.

At the same round table where they had been playing poker, other operators were now taking shots and telling stories. It was Seamus' turn.

"I had nothing to defend myself with, three tangoes aiming at me. Death was on the gates, but that beauty shone, showing me the way. Boom."

"For Sledge's hammer!" toasted Meghan, having Ela on her lap. She drank her glass and put it on the table, making it tremble. "Wow, this vodka's great."

"Blood spilled around the cavern. I don't know yet which caliber were, but..."

Seamus suddenly stopped, sensing his throat dry. He grabbed his glass, finished it and kept going, with many pair of eyes on him.

"But _bloody hell!_ Those shots hurt like shite."

His hands moved around, nearly rhythmical to his voice. When a sentence dropped, his usual stoic expression changed, along with the direction of his gaze, trying to involve the people around him.

He really enjoyed storytelling.

Meters away, on the pool table, Mark and Emmanuelle sat beside each other. They talked and laughed, like normal friends would do.

An abrupt change between them, because only in the workshop they had normal conversations.

Well, as normal as a one sided conversation could get. Outside, Mark didn't talk to anyone but the members of his unit, with few exceptions and when extremely necessary.

Unless, he had high alcohol levels on his blood. His only known weakness.

His own gas mask lied at his side. He couldn't drink anything if he had it on, but needed his protection to the outer world at hand.

As Mark let out a chuckle, it felt like his expressions were out of place, as he didn't use to do that. Maybe the vodka had too much effect on him, even more than the other drinks.

Nearby the furniture, where the TV and the gaming console were placed on, a balcony gave the sight of a beautiful night landscape, accompanied by a silver waning moon.

From there, a pair of dark eyes stared at the brit and the french.

"Hey, Gracey, wassup? Uh, isn't that your fourth shot? Whoa, take it _izzy_." Elena leaned against the railing, trying to control her booze. Her mind didn't let her.

"He is MY Mark, MY Mark, MY Mark." Grace muttered, sitting on the floor, just beside her friend.

She had a little glass filled with vodka in her hand, and her eyes fixed on the youngest operator in Rainbow.

"Your Mark? Who are you marking? Wha...?"

Elena's gaze followed the Korean's eyes, and made a grin.

"Ooo- _hic_ -ooooh, you mean Marky! That's new, Gracey."

"He's too close to Twitch. That little _b_ - _hic_ -! I-I should do something." Grace drank her glass, quick enough to not feel the burn, and put it away.

She tried to stand up, forcing equilibrium out of nowhere, but fell to the ground in the process, returning to the same initial position.

"Mira, what's wrong with Grace?" asked Tina, from the other side of the balcony, next to Maxim.

They were in a subtle embrace, but he fell back, as his partner started speaking.

"Have no ideeeea... she merely had a couple of drinks, nothin' strong." Elena took a deep breath, focusing on her canadian colleague.

"Did you give her a drink?" Tina picked up the empty glass Grace had left on the ground. "Didn't you know she does _not_ handle any kind of alcohol at all?"

"Noes- _hic_ -sss" Mira started babbling, and closed her mouth shortly after.

"Hey, where's Dokkaebi going?" Maxim observed, pointing to the inside room.

She somehow had managed to stand up again and now was slowly zigzag walking to the pool table. Not making much noise, but the three on the balcony saw her right hand with a fist formed.

"Oh no, - _hic_ -'s going to punch Twitch." Elena gulped and made the gesture of moving towards her, but couldn't keep her balance, falling on her back again. "I don't like Twitch anyways." she added, chuckling.

Tina, Maxim and Elena stayed to see the scene. Emmanuelle showed her tablet to Mark and kept talking, while he listened, curious.

A howl from Seamus' table interrupted them. Like the old bar game, each present had to take a shot of vodka.

Elena and Maxim, unconcerned of the korean, toasted and served each other from the half-empty bottle the russian had in his possession.

"Good teammates are you, huh?" Tina turned to them and shook slowly her head.

She narrowed her eyes at Maxim, causing him to shrug. Her expression changed to a worried one when she returned her gaze to Grace.

The korean girl had fallen to the ground, face down and seemed inert. The music, plus various cheers and toasts had distracted the remaining operators in there and didn't notice.

Tina quickly went to help her, leaving the glass she had on a nearby table. Grace's nose and forehead shone in bright red, but her drunkenness diminished the pain by a lot.

As Tina helped Grace get up onto her right knee, she pointed to the pool table again, and made the trapper look at it as well. If all of this had been to get the young brit's attention, it had been in vain.

James' body blocked Mark's line of sight, as the canister operator served him and Emma from another bottle of vodka.

"Come on, don't make yourselves exquisite now. Bottoms up!" the canister operator exclaimed and drank a shot himself.

Again on her feet, Grace took a step forward to go there, but Tina stopped her right on the spot. They struggled a bit, but Tina's strength beat Grace in a blink of an eye. The winner led the drunk to a nearby couch, where Jordan and Eliza sang and chilled out together with the stereo, as they remembered their good times.

The two FBI SWAT members were oblivious to the situation, as it happened just behind their backs.

Tina chose to put her on the remaining seat and sat herself on the armrest, as she didn't need Grace to have a clear view from the happy pair and get jealous. Grace had to stand up or turn her head to the right entirely to do so.

"Heeeeeeey, Dokki, Frost." said the Texan as soon as the korean sat. He looked at each one briefly. "How you doin'?"

"Lame pick up line, Thermite." Tina answered, letting out a snort. Grace looked like she was about to faint, but giggled anyway.

"Ow, that's mean. Can we start over again? I have another one."

"In your dreams, Trace." Tina again focused on Grace. If she kept up like this, she could do things she would regret tomorrow.

Fortunately, the korean kept her silence since her fall, and hardly swung her head.

As the current music suddenly dropped, Grace jumped to her left and passed an arm around Jordan's shoulder, who decided to continue chilling with Eliza.

" _I've fallen in love! I've fallen in love for the first time, and this time I know it's for real_..."

The three sang together, giving a lot of feeling to the lyrics. Tina rolled her eyes, amused.

Even if Grace looked fine now, she could get worse in any moment.

Tina would have taken her herself, but she didn't want to leave Maxim. He wouldn't have agreed to do it either, as he didn't like to do that kind of stuff.

The ones she could rely on were drunk, busy with feelings, or gone, and those sober enough like Jordan, were gossipy enough to tell all Rainbow about Grace's booze, her crush to Mark, and many secrets she could reveal in her current status.

However, it took her seconds to find the obvious solution: Chul. She knew he didn't like social stuff like this celebration, as he didn't bother to show up.

Contacting him was complicated, the only way being the 'restricted for work' group chat.

Many operators who had tried to communicate with him never received an answer of the call, neither the double check of received message. He had blocked most of Rainbow, apparently.

Tina was no exception, as she realized when she tried. Or maybe he had his phone turned off. Either situations were bad anyway.

"Hey, Grace, can you lend me your phone?" Tina asked, causing her to let go of Jordan.

"What- _hic_ -do you want it for?" the korean replied, panting and fanning herself with her hand.

"You are not doing so well, so I thought you..."

"Not doing well? I'm having f-f-fun!" Grace remarked the 'f' and forced a smile.

The Canadian defender knew all the drill. She had maximum ten minutes before Grace sensed the bad effects of alcohol.

"That's it. I need to call Chul. Give it, now." Tina ordered and held up her hand.

"But he's no fun at all! I don't want him here!" Grace's sharp and girly tone pierced through the barrier of stereo sound, and reached clearly Tina's ears.

"Then what do you wanna do?" Tina inquired, irritated.

"I want my Mar- _hic-_ away from that damned french, and I want him to take me to bed!" The hacker girl didn't bother to keep her voice low.

"'Mar' what, Dokki? I can be all the 'Mar' you want if that's all you need to..." Jordan, out of nowhere, joined the conversation, earning a disgusted expression from Tina.

"Easy, cowboy. M'heart is not yours." the korean pushed him, causing his head to fall onto Eliza's shoulder.

"I'll call Mark then. Just give me your phone." Tina urged. She narrowed her left eye, believing she just said a pathetic lie.

However, all excited, Grace took it out of her pocket, unlocked it with her fingerprint instinctively and handed it to her. Tina, relieved, called Chul as soon as she could.

Tina turned her back to Grace and covered her mouth slightly, along with the device's tiny microphone. The Canadian didn't know if Grace kept her normal hearing when drunk, so she chose to not take any risk.

" _ **Yes**_?" Chul mumbled, and cleared his throat. "What's wrong, Eun Hye?"

"Vigil, I'm Frost. Eh, Grace had a few drinks and..."

Crack. He didn't let her finish, and cut the line.

"What did he say? Will he come- _hic_ -get me?" Grace bit her lip, as Tina took off the phone from her ear.

"Here he comes, don't worry. I guess he's just saying goodbye to Twitch."

However, Mark didn't show any signs of moving. He just earned a friendly punch on the shoulder from Emma.

Tina did her best to keep Grace distracted, blocking every try she made to see the pool table. She couldn't even bring water to sober her up because if Grace found out about the lie, Mark would probably end tonight with a slap on the face.

As minutes passed, Tina slowly resigned to watch over the Korean for the rest of the evening. Holding her hair as Grace hugged the toilet, throwing up counted like a favor, right? Tina could use one.

Few moments later, Chul appeared, wearing his normal clothes and mask. He noticed Grace few seconds later, as she released a hiccup, chatting with Tina.

Grace sat straight on the couch, but couldn't help her lingering head's swing. Her tiptoes hit the ground, following each other, as she adjusted herself on her seat, nervous.

Chul sighed, and went where she was.

"Let's go." he said simply when he arrived. Tina's eyes illuminated to his presence. This night yet could be saved.

"But I don't want to leave yet!" Grace protested, crossing her arms.

"Oh, come on! A little while ago you wanted to..." Tina frowned. Just what she needed, a stubborn drunk.

"I wanted Mark to take me, not him!" Grace pointed to the pool table, proving Tina's block didn't work as good as she thought.

Jordan and Eliza had left a while ago. They looked for more vodka and ended up joining the storytelling table.

"I'm not for this, Eun Hye." He snarled. He wasn't fond of the situation, at all.

"Then go away, Kyung." Grace shook her head, with sleepy eyes.

" _ **I would do it if I could, you stupid drunk.**_ " he turned to the canadian. "Help me, Frost."

Chul turned around and crouched in front of Grace.

"Lift her off the couch and lean her on my back, I'll take care of the rest."

Tina raised her eyebrow at his words, doubtful. Grace still could move and get up by herself, but soon she realized why he had said that.

Nothing she said convinced the hacker to move. The latter still waited for her young british prince.

Then, Tina tried to do as Chul commanded, despite Grace's refusal.

"If you keep putting yourself in that way, I swear I'm going to put a miniature Welcome Mat on your laptop." The trapper glared at Grace, out of patience.

The korean girl continued with her tantrum, but she agreed to move now.

As Grace got up, she lost balance and fell to the right. Tina grabbed her by the arm and tenderly put her on place.

Chul grabbed her legs and got up. To be sure, the Canadian readied herself to push her if she fell backwards. Grace, still conscious, embraced her right arm around Chul's neck and left the other hanging on his other shoulder, alongside her head.

The Korean defender hurried across the room, as fast as he could. She was heavier than she looked.

"Weeeeeeee…" Grace mumbled, as she sensed breeze on her face.

At that moment, Maestro did his comedy storytelling on the round table. Most operators paid attention to him, as they got tipsier and tipsier, with vodka and laughs.

The others who didn't, kept enjoying their sweet time in pairs, and the exception of the exceptions, way gone into drunkenness, praising their gods.

Chul and Grace didn't get noticed, and exited through the door.

" _Finally_..." Tina whispered as she dropped herself on the couch.

Another howl. Everyone conscious but her drank a shot. She caught a glance of Mark, who had his eyes locked on the two koreans.

He almost instantly noticed Tina and turned to Emma. The latter emptied the last trace of liquid her glass had.

Mark, amused, shook his head and snatched the bottle beside her. He formed a small grin, as Emma struggled to get her alcohol back.

Tina decided to turn away. She just saved a certain Korean girl from making a scene, and Mark from having to deal with that Korean girl. Two on one. She earned her rest.

Her gaze ended up on the balcony. In there, Maxim and Elena toasted to the night sky. The two barely even moved from where Tina had left them.

Tina relaxed her muscles and rambled to her boyfriend. Hopefully, this could still be a nice night.

**-End of Flashback-**

Grace looked like she examined her nails, but couldn't help her cheeks getting reddish.

Timur smirked at the reaction, pleased with himself. He had just taken revenge on her fellow attacker. When he painted, he didn't need his phone playing hardcore metal out of the blue.

"And how did you know about that, Glaz? I didn't see you partying there." inquired Mira. She chuckled from time to time she heard her name in the story.

"Well, Maxim did. He told the Spetsnaz what happened."

"Not! I saw you at the meeting, Timur." Grace objected, as her gaze got back to him.

"I-I didn't say I wasn't there." Timur answered. His tone weakened at first, but then regained confidence.

"You were with Caveira. Probably I was drunk as hell, but I'd swear to Six I saw you with Cavi that night." The hacker girl added, interrupting him.

"That's not... uh…" The russian started to lose his facade. He rubbed the scar of his eye, as he always did when nervous.

"Hey, now that I remember, it's true. She had you cornered, so close..." Elena left her SMG on the board and put a hand on her chin, trying to reminiscence.

Timur chose not to answer, and grabbed his rifle, and rambled to his booth.

"Hi, Caveira!" exclaimed Grace, precisely on the russian's blind spot.

He abruptly stumbled and fell beside his weapon, which was still unloaded.

"Oof." He gasped, and looked to the door. He sighed in relieve, noticing merely air go by.

"Bullying me does not suit you, Timur. Let's get going, Mira, I'm hungry." Grace smiled at him with a frown, swinging her legs back and forth by her seat.

She jumped down to the ground, and started disassembling her weapon.

"Oh, yes. Today we have the German's cooking." Elena picked up her SMG and started taking out its modifications. "I liked the potato salad they served last time."

Timur had his ankle a little sore with the fall, so he rolled on the floor and sat. Both Elena and Grace went to their own lockers and put their weapons inside. Then they reunited by the door, and looked back to the Russian sniper.

"You're going to stay there, Glaz? The real Caveira could come here and if she finds out you've denied her..." Elena considered, tapping her chin with her index finger.

"Ah. Wait, I'm going to get lunch too." Timur stood up as fast as he could. He hid his pain behind a single eyelid twitch.

"Wimp." Grace muttered, cracking a smile. How curious. Taina's creepy aura even affected her lover.

* * *

Lesion's Garden. Located outside of the Hereford Base, just to the left to the building.

Various colors filled the rustic place, according to its name. It was divided in three.

The first area was completely outdoors. Various square bushes delimited the zone, forming a rectangle. Brown leaves on the ground surrounded them, to let pass the green ones on its branches.

Spring had started several weeks ago, letting the plants grow again, such as maize, tomatoes, potatoes, or any Liu wished to. This season, young maize plants stood in line, following each other as far as space let them.

This place also had apple trees. They kept distance from the other plants, and formed another line, parallel to the rectangle. From three months of being in dormant state, green leaves had started to cover their branches.

The greenhouse occupied the second area. It had potted stuff all over the place, like flowers, orchids, sunflowers, water lilies in pots with water and the ones Liu liked the best, the cactus.

Also strange plants and fungi, some with the clear warning: "Do not touch".

The third area was a place built by Liu himself, its purpose being to process the harvest from those said strange plants, to its final result.

Six supported the idea, and upgraded it to a laboratory, made in such a way that no one could see the inside from the outside, with reflective glasses on the windows. As James requested.

The principal users of this lab were the canister operator, Gustave, Lera, and Liu himself, whose gadgets needed different natural products to work. Two healing and two harmful. Fair enough.

Despite Liu's friendly nature, he wouldn't let anyone enter the garden without his permission, arguing that "No one shares his passion" or a simpler "Shoo, I don't like you".

Nonetheless, he accepted the help of anyone who offered, with a smile and a cup of tea.

The sun had reached its highest point minutes ago.

James lied under an apple tree. His hand pillowed his head, as he thought about the beautiful butterfly that recently passed by. When it flew away, his mind roamed through memories, and stopped at a certain cactus and his younger roommate.

" _Shy boy having the hots for the bad girl. Yeah, really original._ " James muttered.

He scarcely helped him. He didn't plan to meddle in Mark's exciting love adventure.

Nah, who was he lying to? He was definitely doing it.

James sensed a sudden cool breeze on his face, and closed his eyes. He had to stay up late last night, as he couldn't convince Mark to give the cactus to Grace by himself.

Heck, from his attitude, James didn't know how the hell he ended up at least convincing him to leave the plant on her spot on the workshop. Maybe the spring warmth managed to reach his heart.

The canister operator sighed and dozed off.

A minute later, he felt a small throbbing pain on his forehead and opened his eyes, annoyed.

"Ow." He saw a tiny spiky wooden stick falling to his nose and then to his chest.

He looked up. The garden owner stood there, wearing a straw hat and leaned on a rake, his gaze on him.

"What are you doing here, Porter?" Liu questioned, narrowing his eyes.

He pulled another tiny stick from his shirt pocket and aimed it to the SAS member, again to the face.

"There isn't any apples to rob, Liu. Chill." He sat and raised his hands in defeat, showing that he had no intention of fighting.

"Get up, now." Liu returned the toothpick to his pocket and offered him his free hand. "As I said, what are you doing here? I thought that the German potato thing had all people around excited."

"Is it that time already? Shite, I lost track of time." He grabbed Liu's forearm and stood up, then brushed off his clothes. He took out his phone to see the hour.

Wow, one hour flew like nothing.

"I don't think anyone would expect you that much." the asian laughed. "How was it?" he added, grabbed the rake and turned around.

"How was what?" James replied, putting his phone back into its place.

"The cactus! You said something about a gift for Dokkaebi." Liu started walking to the first square bush. "Didn't know you were into younger ones, you pig."

"Ah. It wasn't for me, mate. It was for Mark." James mused, following him as he stretched his arms.

"Oh, no. Poor Mute." Liu arrived and began raking the soil, gathering brown leaves and grass.

"What? Why?" The Brit asked confused, raising an eyebrow.

"Grace actually likes sunflowers. Well, I guess. She spends a lot of time looking at them when she comes around."

"And why did you tell me to give her a _bloody_ cactus? Damn it..."

"Because I thought it was for you, Porter. How was I supposed to know? You also texted for that at 2am. Shit almost freaked me out."

"Do you hate me that much, Liu? You are going to break my heart." James put both hands to his heart, seeming hurt.

"It's your fault. I remind you that you still don't pay me back for the last time Sledge and you stole my apples." Liu looked up and pointed at him with the rake.

"Whoa." James instinctively dodged the hit, going backwards. "So Grace hates cactus?"

"Nah, I don't think so." Liu took a toothpick to his mouth and started chewing, letting the rake fall down to the ground. "I wouldn't let any kind of plant-hater go into my place anyway."

"You sure? If this goes bad, you can expect a stinky canister response." James taunted, cracking a smile.

"Relax, Porter. She just doesn't like to touch those, that's all."

"Nobody likes to touch them, man. You're the only weirdo who practically adores them!"

"Says who refers to his canisters as babes." Liu muttered, narrowing his eyes at James.

"Maybe I should check things up. See you around." James turned around and stepped forward. "One more thing. Keep the secret, yeah?" He turned back to his asian colleague.

"Uh, what secret? Did I miss something?"

"That's the spirit. Later."

James started jogging, in direction to the building.

* * *

Mission accomplished. All four Yokai's propellers fixed.

Masaru had made it jump and hover around the workshop, noticing no failures.

For a final test, he wished the drone to go along with him to the cafeteria. As he controlled it with his wrist device, he got out of the room, engrossed.

A hard crash made him fall to his left, down to the cold floor.

"Ow. That must hurt. Are you alright?" Elena queried. She had to hold Grace on place so she wouldn't fall too.

"Yep, better than ever." the japanese sat and continued to control Yokai.

The drone, with a silent movement left the workshop, surprising the three standing. Yokai started flying around the corridor, then landed in Masaru's hands.

The three followed it with their eyes. Timur, stepped forward to help Masaru, offering his arm.

"Hm, what is that?" The russian noticed something inside the workshop, and pointed inside.

Grace and Elena peeked into the room. A cactus with a red flower stood proud in a brownish pot, on a table, near to the large board.

"Oooooh, look at that. It's a cactus gift, onto Grace's spot!" Elena exclaimed, her lips curving upwards.

"You think so?" the two women entered the workshop, leaving Timur outside.

"No doubts about it, from here I can see Chandar in the dedication." The russian narrowed his eyes, focusing his sight on a paper folded in half, just beside the pot.

He flinched at his own words and hid his disbelief forcing a cough.

"Mark? Really?" Grace's eyes twinkled, as she grabbed the paper, with her name written as well.

"Truly, here says Mark Chandar. It looks like you're being courted, Grace. Wuuuuuuuh." Elena chirped, pointing at her friend, making a circle with her index finger.

"Could be, but I don't believe its meaning is that deep though." Grace began to look at the plant in detail. She was almost sure she had seen one like this before.

"You're kidding, right? Mark's like a little british amoeba, so probably it's a the most thoughtful thing he's done around here." Timur noted, leaning beside the door.

"Carrying Porter counts?" Elena added, snickering.

"Yeah, it counts. Grace, just take it to the cafeteria. He'll be there as well."

"Fine idea. Maybe there you can thank him properly." Elena turned towards the entrance, as her loose light brown hair swung gracefully.

The korean girl took the pot with both hands and, following her colleagues, left the workshop.

"Where's Masaru?" Grace asked, looking everywhere when she got outside.

"Echo left a while ago. You spent a lot of time staring at the plant."

In the distance, they heard steps rush towards them. James' figure came from the end of the hallway. After a few seconds he arrived, and stared at the cactus and Grace as well.

"Hey, Smoke, what's up?" Elena asked him, as he caught his breath.

He waved to the three, but didn't look at her fellow defender. His gaze was fixed on the korean.

"Do you like cactus, Grace?" he panted a little.

"Yeah. They are a bit dangerous, but cute in their own way." She replied. The question practically caught her off guard, but she realized something.

"Ah, cool. That's good." James gave her a thumbs up. With nothing more to say, he jogged past them down the corridor, towards the cafeteria.

The trio watched as he left.

"Seems like all SAS members are involved in this." Elena commented, barely touching the red flower.

"Perhaps Sledge. Though Thatcher would get involved when Ash by some miracle stopped rushing with the speed of light in the VR tests." Timur snorted.

"Miss Kicking Door without rushing? Yeah, I get it." Grace shook her head, letting out a smirk.

Then the three of them, with the cactus in the korean's hands, headed to the café.


	3. Crush.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unlikely love at first sight.

The Hereford base cafeteria. Generic, to say the least.

It was quite spaced, but the objects inside made it look like a cramped square, divided in four smaller ones.

Sixteen tables. Sixty-four seats. Two vending machines stood in both horizontal gaps, following each other, with drinks and snacks inside.

The vertical one showed tacitly where to do the waiting line, for lunch, dinner or whatever with high demand.

The buffet stood in the end of this line. Its own empty spaces were wide enough for the tremendous amount of food needed for the residents inside the base.

It had on a lot of metal trays, clean plates, cutlery, and last but not least, various pairs of chopsticks, for any operator who preferred using them.

Behind this buffet, was the said kitchen, where the magic occurred.

Every appliance inside had its own duplicate close by, and if it didn't, then was surely way bigger and more expensive than a normal one. The fridge had more ingredients into, the shelves too, the stove cooked more at a time, and so on.

Thrice a week, the operators, up to a group of four, had to make lunch by themselves.

In the beginning of the Rainbow Team organization, grouping up was quite simple, as every unit already had four members. But then, when the weird policy of two at a time started with Buck and Frost, another idea came up, to made work fair for everyone.

Groups of two members, like SAT and GROM, had to join together to fulfill the task.

Even if Ela and Zofia had a weird relationship, no one could skip the duty of cooking for all Rainbow. In addition, only them had a fifth member, Yokai, the perfect assistant.

Each operator had at least a little knowledge of food for survival in hostile environments, so anyone could do an edible meal. But some stood out for its savory, like the French.

However, those doing the cooking at that precise moment, were the GSG-9.

By the time Seamus, Mike and Mark entered the café, they clearly heard Monika's furious screams from inside the kitchen.

Neither could understand any word because of the fluent German, but from the tone they deduced she was mostly swearing.

The few people present besides the trio were Craig, who read the newspaper at the upper right table, near middle of the cafeteria, and Taina, who was on the other side, to the far left near to the vending machines, playing with her knife with one hand and holding her phone with the other.

The SAS members, after seeing buffet empty, went to a unoccupied table, near the middle as well.

Mike sat next to Mark, and Seamus in front of the two, turning his back to the buffet.

"Uh, did we got here too early?" Seamus asked, turning to see the door where all the noise came from, and then his stomach growled.

"Nope. It's a bit past noon." replied Mike. "Hey Blackbeard, you know what's going on?"

"Apart from IQ yelling at her entire squad, nothing much." He looked up from his newspaper. "I think there won't be lunch for us today, guys."

"Oh, man. I'm starving! These little blondies..." Seamus stood up and headed towards the kitchen.

Taina, curious, subtly turned to watch the show.

The Scotsman knocked hard on the door. After few seconds it opened, just enough for IQ's head to come out.

"What?!" Her eyelid twitched. Yes, Monika was furious.

Seamus' chest deflated, along with his determination.

"Is the food ready yet?" he asked discouraged, crossing his arms.

" _ **NO**_!" exclaimed the blonde with her eyes wide open, and slammed the door on his face.

Taina smiled, then continued to play with her knife. Craig seemed like he didn't notice anything, letting out a single chuckle.

"Afraid of women as well, Cowden?" taunted Mike, grinning at Seamus when he came back.

"What does that have to do with this, old man? I'm famished!"

Mark knew Seamus hated snacks before lunch, so he kept his mouth shut.

"Well, that trio of muppets pissed her off. I really fear an angry woman's food."

"Also laser sights." Seamus chuckled. "Hey, Mark, you hungry? Maybe you can do the sweet talk to IQ…"

The youngest watched photos on Instagram. Despite not having any picture published, he used it as personal entertainment. And for memes.

"No." he replied, without looking at him, while moving the screen with his index finger.

"What are you doing? Snatched!" the bald operator took his device with a quick move. Mark struggled for a moment, but Seamus, with a second pull, won the fight. "Ooooh, niiiice, Marky."

"Mute watching lewd stuff?" Mike let out a snort.

"Not that nice though." Seamus turned around the tablet in his hands, just for the old man to see.

The screen showed a picture of Grace. She had her hair loose and smiled at the camera.

"Come on, son! Ask her out!" The old Brit groaned.

Mark's face became red soon enough. He praised his own gas mask for covering him, and sighed silently.

Ignoring Mike and Seamus, he retrieved his tablet and blocked it, returning it to his vest pocket.

"The old man's right, Mark. Who knows, this shitty job is dangerous as hell. Someday you'll wish being with her from the beginning and not be waiting like an idiot. Like now."

"Who's emotional now, huh?" Mike snickered.

"With a cactus involved who wouldn't be emotional?" Seamus also chuckled.

"Huh." murmured Mark, dryly.

"Hey, now that I remember, you've been aiming for Dokkaebi's butt for a long time now. Mike, when did White Noise operation started?"

Mark snorted with irritation.

"Late 2017, I guess. Yeh, I almost died in one of those. That's when the Koreans and the older Bosak joined Rainbow. Huh, was it love at first sight? I thought you liked her all of a sudden, lad."

"Yeah, little Marky here's surprisingly good at hiding. Moreover, we wouldn't ever know if his façade had worked as usual."

"Oh, hold on, Cowden. I think I remember. Uh… when Mark threatened to kill Smoke? For the umpteenth time?"

"Close enough, but too late, old man. Let me."

* * *

**-Flashback. December 12, 2017.-**

The living room. The widest room in the entire base. It had capacity for many people, if not all the operators living inside the base.

It served as a common room, pretty much like the ones they had in each unit shared room, but several times bigger.

In there, Mark Chandar was peacefully reading an electronics magazine, looking to improve his own equipment and his jammer. He ate some chips and listened to music from his earphones, which hanged by his chest. It had it max volume on, but sounded as a whisper.

His gas mask was on his side, on the armrest.

He chose the best place he could get. Close enough from the chimney, the armchair being better than the ones in the SAS room and silence. A little comfort bubble.

He had heard about three operators joining the Rainbow team that day, but he wasn't particularly excited. In any case, he would meet them in the VR practices, or in workshop's work, whichever came sooner.

_"Either wanna be with me or be me..."_

Mark had a strange habit of reading with a song in loop, from his early youth full of studies.

He seldom liked a song with lyrics, preferring the pure rhythm ones, but when he did, he kept listening to it until total boredom.

This one had repeated itself for five times now, with a lot more incoming.

Since lunch, he hadn't seen any of his roommates.

Recently, James had been more unbearable than ever. Seamus might be playing a new game on his laptop with hot chocolate on his side, just what he used to do on chilly days, and Mike probably in a meeting with Six, about the new ones.

He could guess, but didn't gave it much thought anyway.

Only Taina's and his own quiet breaths broke the silence from time to time. She read a book on a couch nearby as well, with her legs crossed.

Mark didn't feel bothered about her. On the contrary, her presence felt warm and pleasant, in some way. She even got used to the low beats that came from the brit's earphones.

The two shared that relationship, both silent but breaking loneliness. Judging how she treated almost everyone else, she was on friendly terms with him.

After a while, Mark found an ad page. He heard steps coming into the room, but didn't mind much. Maybe other operator wanted to relax or get near the chimney, seeking for comfort.

As they became closer, the options diminished to three.

He read the big words quickly, and when he was about to turn to the following page, he felt a light punch on his shoulder. From the three options, the second worse.

"Didn't I tell you to be at the entrance at 1800 to receive the new operators?"

Mark hummed to the old man. He glanced over briefly to where he last had seen Taina, but she had vanished.

"Don't 'hm' me, kid, I'm your superior here. Move, now. I gotta go." Mike turned around and left.

Mark wasn't going to follow that order anyway. He needed to finish this magazine, hoping to find the needed information for a Moni's improvement and not mess it up in the process.

He turned the page calmly, and put both of his earphones on.

_"Make you work hard, make you spend hard..."_

Twenty minutes passed. Mark's mind was immersed in the words, highlighting the parts that could be useful. Suddenly, a tap on the shoulder interrupted him. He looked up, expecting Mike to be there.

"Sledge?" he mumbled, as he brought another chip to his mouth.

"Sorry, mate, old man's orders."

The Scotsman shrugged and grabbed him by the collar of the shirt Mark wore and started dragging him. His earphones got off in the struggle, hanging again on his chest.

"Hey, hey, hey! Oi, Seamus! At least let me...!" With a quick move, he exchanged his magazine with his mask, leaving the first on the armchair's seat.

As soon as they came out of the living room, Mark got rid of Seamus' grip and did the clasps of his mask, and then put his earphones on. He needed the distraction at least.

"If you go back there, Thatcher told me to drag you around the base if necessary. Please do it. This still can be a good day." Seamus asked with an ironic plead.

Mark shook his head and made sleepy eyes, not knowing what else to answer. Seamus smirked and both started moving towards the entrance.

"Hey, try to look a little excited. Two new girls are coming here as I've heard." The SAS attacker rubbed his hands with each other, trying to give expression to his words, but ended up putting both into his pockets because of the cold.

"I've already seen their files. One of them is married and has a child." Mark stated. He was a party pooper and he knew it.

"Aw, come on, you always try to take away the sweet things of life, don't you?"

"Ah. I guess."

The closer they got to the entrance, the more operators they found, chilling.

When they left the building, they saw an unusual outdoor winter gathering. Some operators were inside the guardhouse, near to the entrance to the Hereford base, covering themselves from the cold.

Some operators covered themselves from the cold inside the guardhouse, near the entrance of the Hereford base.

Unlike them, the Spetsnaz behaved pretty normal, being Maxim the only one wearing a striped scarf, apart from his green uniform.

A little far from their group, James talked casually with Meghan, the two by the middle of the large group.

Mark caught few words of their speech. Something about Ela worried her, as she didn't want to leave her room at all. As a matter of fact, the young brit didn't see her having lunch at noon.

"When is this supposed to start? It's already 6:10. I've got things to do!" Eliza protested. Her loud voice interrupted Yumiko and Jordan, both in a conversation beside her.

"Oi Porter, what happened to the old man?" Seamus asked, joining the group, slipping between Meghan and James. Even with his wide and strong form, he could be stealthy if he wished to. Unfortunately, his height didn't help much.

"He left a while ago, and told us not to move until he came back. I feel like a trained animal."

"Maybe that's your internal self." Seamus grinned. "Better he doesn't take long. I want to finish watching a TV series I found."

"I just hope it's not Game of Thrones, buddy." Meghan snorted. She looked a bit chirper.

With so many people on the entrance, the cold in the group nearly got nullified. At least to those who stood in the middle. Still, the sweaters worked just fine for the ones on the borders.

James, Seamus and Meghan started talking about TV series, a theme Mark barely had the basic knowledge of, thanks to the internet.

Anyway, since he couldn't engage conversation with anyone else either, he preferred to stay with his SAS colleagues and continue listening to the same song in loop, with the volume lowered.

Minutes later, the small door of the entrance gates opened and Mike got inside, with a firm step. He wore a scarf and thick gloves apart from his dark uniform.

"Apologies for the wait." He spoke first to all the operators inside, his breath noticeable in the air. Then he added, raising his voice. "Come on in, newbies."

The first to enter was a Caucasian adult woman with brown hair, wearing a khaki jacket and dark pair of trousers. She had a pair of dark glasses hanging on her jacket's zipper.

Her face looked youthful, but her aura felt mature. She had a huge backpack on her back and a handbag hanging on her arm. She carried both without any problems.

According to the files, she had to be Ela's sister, Zofia Bosak.

"Name's Zofia Bosak, codename Zofia. Pleasure to meet you." she announced, raising her hand, without addressing anyone in particular, although she showed signs to be looking for someone in specific. Then she stepped into the building.

A second individual entered. A man with his face covered by a peculiar black mask.

On the black jacket he wore, the numbers 707 and the flag of South Korea showed by the shoulder. For the rest he was dressed in gray and black. He carried a backpack, the same size as Zofia's on his back. Also, he had his two hands occupied. One grabbed a heavy looking bag, and the other a tiny one in comparison.

He seemed to be fine, but could fall in any moment.

According to the files, he was one of the two koreans. He stopped in the middle of the presents, caught his breath and announced:

"Chul Kyung Hwa, codename Vigil."

As soon as he finished, he followed Zofia's footsteps into the building. Mark looked at Chul's mask suspiciously, but then shrugged.

Probably when the others met him few years ago thought the same.

The third and last operator entered. Mark was counting the seconds to return to the living room, grab his magazine and refuge himself in the workshop, only leaving in the middle of the night to consume the needed calories and caffeine, the latter by a lot.

"Cowden, thoughts?" The canister operator whispered.

"Not bad, she easily enters the top three." Seamus also kept his voice down.

"Wow, that high? Haha..."

"Yep, her glasses make _'the perfect sensuality effect'_ we lack around here."

"Only her glasses? I thought you'd look for something… _else._ "

"You are disgusting." Seamus turned to him and slowly shook his head.

"Oh, come on! You thought about it too!" James let out a chuckle.

"I wasn't checking her out, Porter. Well, not like you."

"Keep playing innocent, maybe Marky here believes that lie."

The young brit briefly exchanged eye contact with James, unamused. When Ela arrived to the base, they did similar comments, and even Meghan got herself into the conversation.

At least now the camera lady wasn't in the mood to talk about that.

However, when James looked away to the girl again, Mark's gaze ended up on her, out of curiosity. He blinked, as a trail of light went round his pupils.

_"She's a maneater..."_

Her prettiness cut through his visor, got into his eyes, and put his brain in high alert.

A black beanie with the numbers 707 covered most of her dark hair, letting out a pair of braids on each side. As she walked forward, Mark noticed a mix of black and white dyed short strands of hair falling down to her forehead, narrowly touching her pair of round glasses.

Her face looked naïve and soft. She had narrow eyes, characteristic from her Asian lineage. From left to right, they moved along the screen of the tablet she was using.

Her slight pink cheeks shone into Mark's eyes, as she let out a sigh, also visible on the chill wind.

She wore the same outfit as Chul, but she made it look lighter and attractive to see. Like the other newcomers, she had a backpack, but no handbag.

Her thin lips curved upwards. Probably she had just won her game.

Barely noticing the presence of the other operators, she raised her right arm and said:

"Grace Nam, codename Dokkaebi. Nice to meet ya."

"Hoo boy, apparently intellectual. She enters the top 2 with that, huh?" Seamus muttered, hitting James with his elbow.

"Hm, maybe up to top 1. Remember, the perfect mix: ' _Naughty and nerdy'_. Oh ye..." He made curves with both hands, female ones to be exact. "Aack. I know, I know. Sorry." Seamus smacked his head, hard enough for him to get interrupted. "Mark, opinions? Mark?"

James turned to the young brit. By now he would have answered with a grunt or one of his stupid single syllable responses.

Instead, he was staring at the korean girl, dumbstruck. Even if his gas mask covered his face, it couldn't hide the obvious.

The canister user raised his right eyebrow. Mark was supposed to be immune to attraction to any living being.

Seamus, noticing Mark didn't answer, turned to see him too.

"Stone heart no hormones Mark Chandar stared at a girl? I'm so proud!" The Scotsman put an arm around Mark's neck, imprisoned him and began to rub his knuckles on his head.

The young brit only wore the mask, leaving the upper part of his head and brown hair unprotected.

"Stop. Sledge. Ow." panted Mark, forcing his own way out.

"So energetic with the cold, fellas?" Mike's voice came from behind them, while the rest of the operators got inside the building.

"Oh? No, nothing, Thatcher. You took your time, eh? Ash was about to make a fuss here." James replied, then warmed his hands with a bit of his breath.

"That korean girl… She managed to scare the shite out of the driver I sent, so I had to go to pick them up myself. On the way here, everyone's _bloody_ phone but hers started to ring."

"Isn't that her gadget? Nice." James commented, looking at Mark.

The mask made him look emotionless, as ever, but his hands were acting weird. Restless.

"Uh huh, long story short, we almost walked here. I _almost_ forgot a tiny EMP grenade could fry an engine by itself."

"Whoa, did you? For real?" Seamus crossed his arms and laughed.

"Nah, but hell, I wish I could." Mike shrugged. "I don't need more kiddos around here. One's more than enough." He added, regarding at Mark.

"I don't want to catch a flu." The young brit murmured, trying to sound bored as usual, and entered the building, his cold hands in his pockets.

"Oi, don't try to get away, Marky. We want to know details!" James spoke up, but Mark didn't stop.

"What are you talking about?" Mike tried to catch the gist of the conversation.

"Nothing interesting, old man. Let's go, my brain's freezing." Seamus shook his head, then headed for the entrance to the building. The others followed after him.

Mike didn't need to know. His actions preceded him.

Several months before, Mike unintentionally started the rumor of Tina and Maxim dating, in a target practice with Jordan and his unit. Somehow everyone knew within hours, and their hard work keeping themselves in low profile ended up being worthless.

Despite all of that, they simply ignored the comments, and kept on with their lives. Avoiding Thatcher, the best they could, of course.

As now, if the SAS boys told him what just happened, he would say he didn't care or some cheap answer like that, but it was too risky. Sooner or later he'll know. But not now.

The story wasn't going to repeat itself, especially when the youngest SAS member was the protagonist.

"I'll see you later. I've to inform Six of the arrival of the new ones." Mike waved a finger and left in another direction, leaving the three in the building's entrance.

"I'll go grab a bite in the kitchen, you coming?" Seamus started walking down the main corridor.

"If there's any food left from lunch, count me in. Castle is a master cook." answered James, stretching his arms, following Seamus.

"I'll go to my room. I have things to do." Mark said, and ran ahead past the first two. He didn't want to hear the dynamic duo bothering him again.

"It's not a good idea to stalk her so soon, mate!" James warned him out loud, then laughed with Seamus.

If stalking meant searching for her in the internet, he was about to do that. All social networks if necessary. Only as a distant observer, without following her or any interaction.

"A secret admirer." He whispered.

_"Make you want all of her love..."_

He had already listened to the same song for almost an hour, and still head banged with the rhythm. Maybe all SAS members, if not every operator in Rainbow, were weird in their own way.

He reached the SAS quarters, and lay down on the couch in the mess hall, and then took his phone out of his pocket.

By Rainbow's rules, no one was allowed to publish any work stuff or anything related, but they could still have a social account.

Mark didn't care much, since he only used the networks to see funny memes.

He automatically put "Grace Nam" in the search, and a name appeared in Korean.

He had few knowledge of how to discern between asian alphabets. Those which had circles were Hangeoul. He tapped that one slightly, and the profile of the Korean came out with various pictures of her, from various angles. Effective enough to make his pupils get wider.

* * *

Seamus got up to buy a drink. His dry throat always annoyed him when he talked too much.

"Hold on, I didn't do that." Mark uttered, as the Scotsman stood up.

He shrugged and returned after grabbing his bottle of water.

"Probably. I just try to go on with the story though. Besides, if you keep on the deny, it means you did exactly the opposite. Nice going, Marky." Seamus replied with a snicker, after he seated.

At least Monika had stopped screaming. The cafeteria returned to silence again.

"Nope." The young brit shook his head, impassive. He had his own version of the story, but his roommate's wasn't away from reality.

* * *

Mark was scared of himself. He hadn't felt like this, ever. His phone vibrated twice, making his heart skip a beat.

Three messages popped up as he pressed the unlock button. All from Mike.

" _We'll have a welcome dinner at 2000. Living Room. That's all_."

Under normal circumstances, Mark would have gone solely to bring his food and come back to eat in his room, to avoid being in a crowd. But this time he wanted to go, to see her again.

Holy shit, that escalated even quicker. This feeling of attraction totally messed him up, and didn't know what to do about it.

He took a quick shower with hot water to clear his mind, then polished his mask, leaving it shiny, and put two recently cut pieces of tape to the mouthpiece, forming an X.

For the first time in his life he was unsure of which clothes to wear.

They looked so similar: Dark blue cargo pants, dark blue jeans, dark trousers, black leather coat, blue and black hoodies and dark colored shirts.

Most of his shoes were military tactics, leaving a pair of sneakers and a pair of dark blue slippers.

He noted that if he dressed anything different, any operator would notice the possible interest he had in Grace. Porter the most likely to.

Mark chose his usual uniform, his now shiny gas mask and the same scarf he was wearing before. He wanted to look as ordinary as possible. His phone vibrated again, while he secured the mask on his face.

He reached to the unlock button. A Seamus' message.

"Get your ass over here. NOW. I don't want your crush to see me drag you down the entire base. Thatcher orders."

Mark saw the hour. It was 7:50 p.m.

"Is the food already served?" He wrote.

"Yeh, I think the old man told the time wrong to serve himself first. * _laughing emoji_ *"

Adjusting the laces of his boots and putting on the perfume he rarely used, he headed to the casual reunion. He was nervous, despite he realized it was for no reason at all. She wasn't going to notice him.

"Perfect, you stand out three times more than us. Way to go, Mark." Seamus greeted him on a sofa near the chimney in the living room. The place was full of operators eating dinner.

"Get some food before it runs out, mate." James suggested. He was eating too, next to Seamus. "If these people sin about something, gluttony is the word."

Drat. He had forgotten that detail. To eat, he needed to take off his mask and for no reason he wanted her to see his face. Not today at least.

"I'm not hungry." Mark replied, and agitated his hand to James.

The latter caught the message and moved closer to the middle seat, leaving enough room for the young brit to sit.

He gave a glance to the entire room. The armchair he used previously for reading had now two people. Chul ate quietly on the seat with his mask up, and Grace sat beside him on the armrest, flicking through Mark's magazine.

James, who had followed his masked roommate's gaze, snorted.

"Isn't that the magazine I gave you? Wow, you act so smooth, Mark… How did you get into that level so quickly?"

"I didn't give it to her." Mark retorted right away.

"Yep, we already know. I don't expect you to drastically change from one day to another." Seamus was taking some tomato sauce with his fork to his mouth, and stopped before he could taste it. He leaned forward a little and looked at him with wide eyes. "You didn't, right?"

Mark tilted his head to the left as he looked back at the Scotsman.

"I'm not James to do that."

"I know you want to be me, ya little grasshopper."

Seamus leaned on the back to his seat, and put the fork inside his mouth.

"Question. Why do we eat here instead of the cafeteria?" Marius asked to Elias, who was beside him, enjoying the food. They sat on the opposite couch to the SAS members.

The German shield operator swallowed and just shrugged.

"Well, the fireplace. The café's heating died in the afternoon as far I know. "

"Then that's unnecessary, _**ja**_?" Marius pointed to Maxim and Tina.

The Russian was putting a striped scarf around her neck. She looked amused, and helped with getting her chin up as he made the circles.

"Uh huh _ **.**_ " Elias' pupils moved swiftly between the couple and his friend. Then he raised his right thumb and smirked at him. " _ **Really unnecessary.**_ "

Marius kept eating, satisfied with himself, not noticing the sarcasm.

Mark pulled out his phone out of his pocket. The same song from two hours ago was still playing, and he didn't mind.

Even more, when he looked at Grace, his whole field of vision turned into a video clip.

"Oh, look at him, Cowden. He's checking his prey before attacking." James gazed at him, with a mischievous snicker.

"As an older brother I can't be more proud. My little Marky is becoming a man!" Seamus made the gesture with his finger to be wiping off an imaginary tear.

James started sniffing. He had detected something out of place. Mark instinctively tilted back.

"You have put on cologne! Really?"

Mark looked at him and didn't bother.

_"Wish you never met her at all..."_

"Even if it smells like an oldie's one, it's a big step. A new Mark was born today!"

"You are disturbing the rest, Smoke." Mark snapped with annoyance.

"Have you thought in a pick-up line?" James continued, ignoring his younger roommate.

He had no interest in talking with him about that, but eventually he knew he had to turn to someone more experienced for help. Google also could be an option, but he didn't trust the internet that much.

"I got one just in case: I think I need to report you to Spotify 'cause you're one of the hottest singles this week." the canister lover added with a deep voice.

"And if she's not single?" Mark blurted, hoping to silence him at last.

"Oh, then you come back here and we think of another for committed girls." James automatically answered, curving a mean smile.

"..."

James and Mark looked at each other for a couple of seconds, unable to say anything else. Seamus chewed in silence, focused on his food. When they suddenly heard her voice.

"Does anyone know whose magazine is this? I'll borrow it, whoever it is from." Grace had raised the magazine in the air with one hand and showed it to the rest of the operators, making most of them glance over. They looked at it briefly, and kept eating again.

"There's your chance!" James hit Mark with his elbow.

_"I've been around the world and I've never seen a girl like this..."_

The young brit didn't react. He unconsciously stared again at Grace, as another light went round his pupils.

"Darn it, mate. Stop just eyeing her and do something." James took a deep breath and spoke up. "Hey you, the new one! It's his!" He pointed at Mark with his fork.

He sensed a sudden chills go through his body, despite having all covered and a fireplace almost a meter away. Mark looked at the ceiling to avoid any uncomfortable eye contact. He expected his mask to do the rest of the work.

"Hey, you! The masked one!" Mark heard Grace refer to him, but he didn't move.

"Don't be rude. She's calling for you." James noted, without looking at him, and grinning, he brought a piece of lasagna to his mouth.

The temperature on Mark's face rose at an alarming pace, and also his desire to kill James. He had to think fast.

Like a rusty hinge, his neck turned slowly to the korean, who waved the magazine twice, from one side to the other. She tilted her head and stared at him, waiting for his reply.

Mark couldn't think of anything better. He nodded once, sensing many eyes fixed on him.

He knew his mask hid his flustered expression, but now it felt suffocating, depriving him from fresh oxygen.

He needed to get out of there.

Grace opened her mouth to speak, but Mark stood up interrupting her, turned to James, and ran his finger across his own neck. Then he fled from the living room, not caring much that half Rainbow and his crush were watching.

Raising the volume of the music in his ears helped a lot with the latter.

"Finger on throat means death. Wooo." Seamus quoted a line from a recent movie he had seen.

"Huh. Sometimes, you can be as fun as me." James replied, raising an eyebrow.

"Hey, Dokkaebi! Don't worry, little Mute didn't mean to be rude. By the way, welcome to Rainbow. I am one of the SAS members, Smoke."

That said, James Porter just broke the ice, and each operator introduced themselves with a single word: their codenames.

* * *

Mark gazed at Seamus, as he ended the story, with the empty expression of his gas mask.

"Not the song I listened to." Mark leaned on the back of his seat, crossing his arms.

"Does that matter?" Seamus smirked, satisfied with himself.

"Hm hm. That explains a lot." conceded Mike. He had listened to Seamus' story with his two hands over his nose, one forming a fist and the other covering it. "I have another one, if you let me."

"Oh? I'm all ears, old man. Sadly, James isn't here. He'd love to hear about Mark's escapades." Seamus mimicked Mike's expression.

Mark didn't even bother to answer. Giving his opinion now would be pointless.

* * *

A couple of days ago, James and Seamus had been deployed in Italy, along with several other Rainbow operators. The main mission of the three teams consisted in taking down a mafia boss, but each with a different assignment on the field.

Far from there, the SAS' room had become Mark's little paradise. All alone and with no disturbances. The old man had left early in the morning, probably to torture recruits in training.

Seamus didn't lock up his room, and James neither. The SAS unit had already lived so long together, to the point that they didn't feel the need to hide anything. Well, almost.

Lesion was still the only one who knew the canisters' recipe, besides James himself.

On the other hand, Mike always had his door locked when gone, but he wasn't that interesting to break into his room anyway.

He just kept photos of his ship and his life being a soldier, highlighting an old one from Operation Nimrod.

Some sun rays entered through the bathroom window, enough to illuminate the cramped mess hall.

Mark sat on the couch, with his feet on the short table in the center, and still wore his pajamas from last night. He had Seamus' laptop on a pillow on his lap.

The Scotsman had an incredible video games collection in it, so he chose one he liked and started playing.

An hour and a half later, the laptop emitted various sounds of gunshots, along with the phrase:

" _It's time for the Lance Vance Dance_!"

He did his best to ignore a sudden vibration at the door. This part of the game seemed hard enough, at last.

He thought for a moment it was Dominic's cat, but then he heard the clear knocking sound.

Mark paused the game, and looked at the door. Who could it be? The social ones from the SAS were out on duty and every member of Rainbow knew about Mike's morning work.

By discarding method, he was the only one who could be inside.

He thought of two possible answers. Emma or Masaru, the ones who had spoken with him before.

Mark discarded the latter right away, for obvious reasons. He opened his mouth to call for Emma, but he remembered: Both also were deployed in Italy, like his roommates.

Suddenly another option came up, but it seemed silly enough to not be considered as one in the first place.

Even if he had a friendly relationship with Taina, it didn't cross Mark's mind of her being outside.

After a while, he thought the one knocking had given up, and resumed his game, but an annoying beep came out of nowhere.

On his right, his phone started vibrating and ringing like crazy. He raised an eyebrow. A strange behavior of his always muted device.

He glanced at it and saw the same image Grace used as an operator. It laughed, as the same effect it had on the VR tests.

That irritated the young brit and took him a few seconds to turn it off. When he noticed what he was doing, a cold stream of blood went through his veins.

"Haha. Come on, open the door! I know you're there."

It was HER voice. The one he followed secretly, and escaped from if it got too close.

He sensed his heart beat faster than usual. He shook his head regain his composure.

Grace Nam was outside. Focus. He had to get the door.

He began to feel anxious again. He hadn't spoken to her yet, despite four months had already passed since he met her.

What could he say to her? He had no idea how to talk to women. For the first time, it looked like a good idea to go out with the guys one weekend to see how they did it in a random bar.

He hopped to his room and changed to his daily clothes in less than a minute. While he got washed, she knocked again.

"I don't like waiting, you know? Hibana's still around, maybe I..." her voice sounded with less emotion than before.

Mark picked up his gas mask from his nightstand and took a deep breath to encourage himself, and put it on. He went to the door and opened it.

Grace leaned her back at the side of the door, as she scrolled down the screen of her tablet. She had a magazine sticking out of her left vest pocket. It looked familiar.

"Mute, right?" She turned around and put her tablet back in her vest. "Oh, you have the mask on. Of course it's you. Fancy meeting you here."

Mark felt his ability to speak gone. He nodded, fixing his eyes on her.

"Well, this is yours." Grace took out the magazine she had borrowed when she arrived to Rainbow. "I found it while cleaning my room. Here."

The young brit extended his arm and grabbed it. He pulled once, but she had a strong grip on the item.

Grace then pulled to her side playfully, making the magazine slip through Mark's fingers.

"You don't talk much, do you? Though I've seen you talking to Sledge and Smoke a lot..."

Mark huffed inside the gas mask. He did another attempt to take the item, but she dodged him this time. Grace smiled, as she was having fun.

A sudden desire made him crave for her closeness, and touch her skin. Nothing else. His soul was yet innocent enough.

Maybe to smell her perfume too, but his gas mask made the idea sound stupid. He rather had it on, to have his face exposed.

He came up with the thought of immobilizing her and take away the magazine. So many hours of CQC with James wouldn't be a waste.

He shook his head. No, better not.

"Not going to answer? Fine. I'm bored, I can be around here annoying you all day." She made a wry smile, making the brit's eyes sparkle.

Mark would never slam the door at her face. Ever. So he chose another option.

"I don't like to talk." murmured Mark, looking away. It wasn't the best, but way better than the other one.

"Then you're a man of action? Show me then." Grace rolled the item and waved it in front of him, with her right hand. "Take it from me. If you can."

Mark narrowed an eye, doubting. Even with a transparent visor, the mask did an outstanding job covering his face language.

It would appear that learning James' techniques wasn't going to be in vain. But he stopped himself, self-conscious. What he was about to do?

" _Ah, fuck it_." Mark mumbled to himself.

He swiftly stepped forward and feinted to go for the item again with his right hand, but he went for her wrist with the other. When she wanted to let go, pulling to her side again, he took advantage of it, and made her turn around, like a clumsy dance step.

Mark noticed many open spots on her legs, but shook away the thoughts. This wasn't a CQC practice, and the floor wasn't particularly soft neither.

He made her put her arms behind her back, locking them in place. But, he felt he wasn't forcing anything, as her resistance put against him seemed minimal to none.

Her braids danced along with his moves, but she had her grip with the item intact.

Grace could launch a counter-attack on him in any moment, and he got himself ready to block or evade, depending on where she aimed to.

In any case, he'd win by attacking her wrist again afterwards. The objective was the item, after all.

Suddenly, her words made his determination falter.

"Is that all you got _?_ " She turned her neck to the right, trying to look at him in the eye.

Mark hesitated, sensing sudden strength from her arms. He wanted to keep up his grab, but couldn't bring himself to harm her, in any way. He was fighting with himself, again.

Grace took advantage, and jumped out, carelessly dropping the magazine on the ground, as it hit Mark's forearm. He dodged another indirect hit from her, stepping backwards.

She raised her guard up, but Mark didn't. He went back a couple of extra steps inside the SAS' room.

"Sorry, I..." He didn't plan to give this kind of first impression to her, by far.

To tell the truth, he didn't have any plan.

"Oh. Don't worry." Grace's fists fell, as she noticed Mark wouldn't keep on fighting. She caught a glance of the dropped item. "Looks like I lost."

The Korean girl crouched and picked it up. Mark's eyed her thighs, and quickly looked away. If this kept up, his temperature could be considered as a nasty fever.

"Wow, I really didn't expect that." she raised her eyebrows briefly. "Nice moves."

Grace handed him the item, stepping forward, closing the gap. Mark stretched his hand and grabbed it, without any problems.

For a few seconds they just stared at each other. The brit tried by all means to control his eyes, but they seemed to have fallen into her charm.

"Well, that's all I had to do here." Grace took her tablet out from her vest, and turned it on, its light reflecting on her glasses.

However, she maintained eye contact with him, pushing her round glasses slightly down her nose, with her left hand.

Dark eyes met brownish ones, even with the block between them. That was it, Grace just deepened his crush.

"Nice talking with you, Mute." She blinked a couple of times, then giggled. "Haha, how weird that sounds. Bye-bye." Her hand waved as she walked off.

When she turned the corner, he undid the clasps of his mask and took a deep breath. Mark felt now the sweat and heat he had all over his face.

Fanning himself with the magazine, he went to the bathroom. As soon as he got there, he threw away the rolled item and his face cover onto the armchair in front of his room.

Washing his face, he tried to think clearly of what just happened. Hell of a first impression he had made.

The door of Mike's room opened. After feeling dumb at the thought of a ghost, a more logical explanation came up to him: Mike had never left.

Mark looked to his own face on the mirror. Yes, he was blushing.

Sure enough, it was Mike, changed into his SAS uniform. He appeared by the door.

"Morning. Didn't know you were still here, old man." Mark instantly put on his gas mask.

"I left Tachanka in charge for today, needed the sleep. By the way, I saw Dokkaebi outside. What did she want, lad?

"Nothing important. She just wanted to return that." Mark pointed the magazine on the floor.

"Just what? Ah, ok."

"Do you know how James and Seamus are doing?"

"Many kills confirmed and still counting, if that's what you ask."

"Oh. Great."

* * *

"Wow. Didn't know you started your courting that soon. Nice." Seamus raised his eyebrows and put down his lips, giving him a 'not bad' face, but didn't look impressed.

Mark growled. The old man promised not to tell anyone about that.

"At least we now know you can talk to girls. We should thank Twitch one of these days." continued the Scotsman, putting a hand on his chin. "The minus one percent progress will advance up to one percent."

"Wouldn't it be better if you let Chandar get the girl by himself?" Mike suggested.

"It's been a lot of time without doing much. He needs a little push, old man. As now."

Mark continued with the empty expression of his gas mask. Apparently, Seamus just added himself to the jam, along with James.

" 'kay, I'm going to help your noble crusade of 'making Mark a winner'." The old man agreed and suddenly pointed at his fellow attacker. "But if something goes wrong, all the blame will fall on you. Porter is a potential idiot."

And now Thatcher. Things got out of hand with speed of light.

"James wouldn't mind having another threatening memo from Six." Seamus shrugged.

"Speaking of me behind my back. Oooh, this must be a spicy gossip."

The three occupants of the table turned and saw James approaching and sat next to Seamus. Mark looked around. He had been so engrossed in listening to Mike that he didn't notice the cafeteria getting a bit crowded now.

He glanced everywhere, looking for Grace, but couldn't find her.

The trays of food were shining clean, and the Germans still were in the kitchen, but the delicious smell of prepared food showed their advances.

"Didn't you think of anything better than a cactus, mate?" Seamus gave James a disappointed look as the latter settled back into his seat.

"It nearly went wrong, Haha! Live it up with danger, my friend."

"I dunno why I expected that answer. You know if Dokkaebi already saw it?"

"Yep, saw her on the way here." James looked at Mark, who looked at the exit as soon as he heard the last sentence. "Chandar, you're going to stay on your seat, even if I have to tie you up. Don't be a whining little pussy."

"Hey, hey, quiet, boys." Mike spoke up, hitting the table with his fist.

"If he doesn't flee like a coward, we'll be fine." James cleared his throat. "I was thinking about a second part of the plan for today as well."

"Do tell. If it's nothing sudden and ridiculous, count me in."

"If you're describing _her_ cactus, let me tell you that she's _delighted_ with it." James cracked a smile to Seamus and mixed it with a frown.

Mark gasped. As he released the air from his lungs, a warm feeling went through his chest and cheeks.

"Really? It isn't a fun lie, Porter." Seamus shook his head.

"Shush! You're gonna help or not, Seamus? This goes for our Marky!" James put his fist in the air above the middle of the table, waiting for the others to do so.

The hammer operator rolled his eyes and changed his troubled expression into his normal one.

"For Marky." Seamus put his fist next to James'. He had his doubts, but he shrugged himself off that.

"So far so good." James regarded to Mike, keeping his smirk. "Thatcher?"

"I have no idea what you are up to, but I still have expectations for this lad." Mike chuckled, and hit Mark's back with his left hand. Then he raised his fist. "For Marky."

The young brit looked at the three of them, holding up their right fists, like the high school sports team he never got picked into. He sighed.

Deep within, Mark was a bit relieved because if he ventured alone again it would take an eternity to engage even the simplest conversation with her.

Even so, the idea came for James' wicked mind. He let his eyes fell to the thought of having that as his only option.

"For Mark." he murmured and bumped his fist with the other three.

Each one returned to his position in each seat. James immediately took out his phone and started typing messages in a furious and confused way.

As he tapped the enter button, Seamus' vest pocket began to vibrate several times. Mike's too. Both took out their phones.

They both read the screen, and looked with the same unamused expression at the short brit.

"Seriously? We can use chat, Porter." Seamus raised an eyebrow.

"Well, we could, but it'd take the fun out of it." James nodded to Mike. "You ready?"

"Nope, not yet. And why am I the one starting this thing?" Mike narrowed his left eye.

"Because you're the high rank, duh!" James answered, making a scowl.

"That doesn't make sense, Porter. Anyway, it's for the sake of the 'operation'." Mike ironically emphasized the last word, making quotes with his two hands.

That being said, he stood up and went to where Jordan was talking to Eliza, on the table beside Craig, with the vending machines close by.

"Don't worry, Marky. I ain't forgotten about you."

The masked brit turned to him and blinked once, awaiting James' words.

"Hey." Seamus interrupted, snapping his fingers. Then, he pointed at the door.

The young brit turned and his heart skipped to beat. Elena entered the café talking with Timur, and Grace behind them. In her hands, the korean carried the cactus, which looked happy with its new owner.

"I'm not having lunch today." Mark turned back to his colleagues, just then his stomach growled.

"Oh, you stay where you are, Chandar." James threatened, his voice a bit more serious than usual.

Mark narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms, tilting his head to the right.

"You know what would happen if you don't." The canister operator curved a cruel smile.

"Uh, better listen to him." Seamus shrugged, looking at Mark.

The latter instinctively put a hand on his mask, protecting it. He exchanged a couple of glares with James, as three people walked past him.

Mark chose to ignore them, but couldn't help to catch a glance of Grace as she walked away, behind other two figures. James' expression changed to a mocking grimace, as he noticed what was going on.

Suddenly, Grace stopped and turned to her left, taking a seat on that table.

Mark evaded right away possible eye contact, and tried to re-engage his silent fight with James.

"Oh, this is goin' to be good." Seamus interrupted, subtly glancing at Grace, and then Mark, curving his lips upwards.


	4. Plan.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little peck from her could be all he needs.

Grace didn't really know what to think.

Mark's gaze was so lost that sometimes she didn't know if he really was looking at her or if he was checking the wall behind her.

How could she know? He didn't talk!

The food still seemed to be a mystery. The kitchen had remained silent since she got in her seat.

She had heard some words involving a hang out from the Hard Breachers and Eliza's table, but not clearly. The whispers and the distance distorted the sound.

However, the few information she gathered didn't make any sense. Baker didn't like to go outside the base unless he went to see his beloved ship.

"Caught something interesting?" She asked Elena, who was in front of her.

"Nope. I don't think any word would be 'interesting' if Thatcher is the one doing the talking, my dear."

"Hm..."

Grace eyed her tablet, and found nothing good enough to see. Her own feminine intuition told her what the old SAS member was saying involved her. Especially when she heard the 'Korean' word. He didn't bother to be subtle, not even little.

"Tell me this time you did listen." she asked Elena again.

Her fellow operator was playing with the cactus' spines, tapping one and continuing with the following.

"I don't know what you expect me to hear, Grace. Surely he's talking about some torture done to rookies. By the way, why did you remove Mark's dedication?"

"Because anyone could see it."

"So...?"

"Well, Mark could get even more afraid of me if he gets caught. I'd like to get a little more than eye contact, you know?"

"Huh. We are not teenagers, Grace. A man must show interest and get close to a woman on his own. A lady's love and care isn't gained by simply staring."

"What do you know, Mira?"

Timur stopped drawing a sketch on his art blog and looked up.

"Love... Uh, I think it's complicated to say what it is without having lunch." Mira shrugged. "What do you think, Glaz?"

"I believe romantic love is simply to seek the best for someone else and at the same time for oneself." he replied, and continued making strokes with his pencil.

"Simple and direct. Nice, I like it."

"Thank you. I wasn't talking that deeply, but thanks, I guess." Grace nodded, forcing a smile.

Since the incident in the workshop where Masaru was the third wheel, the young brit hadn't spoken to her.

She couldn't understand why he found complicated to ask her out, if it was more than obvious she would say yes.

Even if she asked to Six about it, she already knew his answer.

"He has selective mutism, Grace. Just give it time and he…"

Time? Screw time! She had been patient enough!

"Hey, do you think Mute is a virgin?" Elena suddenly whispered, approaching to Grace as she lightly pushed the cactus from the middle of the table to the Korean's side.

Grace blinked, and focused in her friend's question.

"According to what I heard from Porter, he's never had a girlfriend. So..."

"Neither boyfriend, right? Haha!" Elena went back to her seat.

"I guess not. Why mention that all of a sudden?"

"Because I've never caught him looking at your butt or chest. Nor Ela's. Not even anyone's."

"Wow. Is it truly a bad sign?"

"Not looking at a woman's curves doesn't mean being gay or a virgin." Glaz muttered without looking at them.

"It's a sacred male ritual!" Elena replied, visibly exasperated.

"Do you mean look at hips and chest to check 'maternal qualities'?"

"Yes!"

"Nyet. Plus, I know why Mark doesn't do that. Last year, on Porter's birthday, he mentioned that when Mark was a teenager, he was checking a lady's arse on the street, who in the end her booming voice showed she was a 'drag queen' or something like that. He was traumatized in such a way he never looked at anyone again."

Grace and Elena laughed.

"But I think it's obvious we are women by birth, Timur."

"Yes, but nothing will take that memory away from him, Mira."

"And how often do you check Cavi's, huh?"

"I reserve that for myself." Timur focused on his sketch again.

"So... it's weird that he keeps staring at me?" Grace asked Elena, sighing. She put a hand on her cheek and leaned her elbow onto the table.

"Hm, your face is pretty and you're young. I wouldn't be impressed if you had more pretenders at bay." The defender hit her friend's forehead softly.

"Here at Rainbow? Nah. When I got here, many wanted to try their luck." she snickered, and started playing with the cactus' spines, like Elena did. "They weren't worth it."

"Oh? By chance you remember any?" Elena put her hands on the table, suddenly interested.

"I wouldn't like to give them away. Anyway, you still don't answer my question."

"Oh. For me, it isn't rare at all to look. In any case, that's what the eyes are for. What's weird is that he doesn't approach to talk to you or ask you out. It's just… childish."

Grace looked over Elena's shoulder. Thatcher was still at the Hard Breachers' table, and a little further, at the SAS members' table, Seamus and James had started a card game with Mark with no gas mask just watching.

He suddenly looked up at James, wishing to tear his head off. The usual.

Mike hadn't returned to the SAS table yet. In a random moment, James searched the pockets of his vest and pulled out a deck of cards and left it on the table, next to Mark's CBRN gas mask.

"Let's play." He said quietly, his tone sounding as innocent as possible.

Seamus raised an eyebrow, not trusting any of his words.

"You want to bet, huh?"

"If there's nothing to lose or win, the game would be boring." James smirked.

"And what would that be?" The Scotsman asked, raising an eyebrow. "I don't plan making a fool of myself in the middle of the base."

"Nah, it's something you'll like, I promise. Mark, wanna join?"

The young brit glared at him. James had won their last silent fight and managed to snatch his preciated cover from the outside world.

"Oh. I almost forgot you lose access to your vocal cords once the mask is out. You can still move your neck, can't you?"

"I'm sure he would insult you in some way if he could talk." Seamus cleared his throat.

Mark nodded slowly twice, his eyes fixed on his annoying roommate.

"Uh huh. It's fine. I'd never be offended by a little kid." James began handing out cards between himself and Seamus. "One game. Whoever wins will drag Mark down the base if he tries to run away. "

"Oh, that makes it interesting." Seamus grinned.

The young brit narrowed his eyes and stared at them, but didn't make any move.

Several times he had fought with James, but few had managed to defeat him. And those 'few' meant the times James had affected himself with his own canisters.

Even in some of their practices, his fellow defender had knocked him out, not on purpose, obviously.

Mark didn't want to lose again, at all. Grace was there, so it would be better to avoid making a scene anyway.

Seamus was another story. Although he could run away from him, Hereford didn't have much places to hide. Especially when the Scotsman looked like a horror slasher movie killer with his gadget.

Was he an ill-fated loser? Was he that unlucky?

James ended up putting four cards face up on the table and the rest of the deck aside.

Seamus grabbed an ace from his cards and took a nine and five with it.

"Ooooh, so that's how this goes, huh?" James taunted, leaving a lone seven on the table.

Even if Mark managed to lock himself down in his room, it wasn't worth it. He wanted to see Grace, and now more than ever. He hadn't seen her delighted yet, as James said before.

Speaking of her, he turned away from his table, finding her on two tables of distance. She was chatting with Mira, who was right in front of her. Apparently they were bothering Timur, the artist.

Suddenly, Grace started to caress the cactus' reddish flower.

He examined the spiny plant briefly. Sigh of relief. At least Grace had the delicacy of removing his dedication, with his name and hers written.

He wanted to look at her face one last time before listening to the conversation his two roommates had. As if he had stepped on a claymore, she immediately looked back at him. Grace blinked once and aimed a finger gun to him, with a wink.

Mark felt the temperature rise on his face, like every time it happened in the workshop. Plus, to make things worse, his mask was missing. He had to think fast.

He coughed to distract himself and returned to pay attention to his own table. Both had two cards left.

"I go for ten" Seamus said, and put a three onto a seven.

"Sixteen." James cracked a mean grin and left a six fall onto the pair of cards Seamus just made.

"I hate you." replied the Scotsman, resigned.

"I know, don't worry." The canister user noticed Mark's gaze on them. "Wanna play now? Or Dokkaebi's beautiful face dazzled you again?

"Hey, but what happens if he wins?"

"Simple, we make him hit his own face and that's it. Your turn."

"Aw, crap" He dropped his last card on the table. A ten of hearts.

The young brit just watched, and didn't reply. Obviously the Korean's face had dazzled him, but he wouldn't ever tell James. At least not sober.

"Why does the old man take so long? It was a simple message!" James exclaimed, turning in his chair to look at the Hard Breachers' table, while he took the ten of diamonds along the three cards with him.

Mike was still chatting with Jordan, Eliza and Yumiko. Erik listened to them, but didn't participate in the conversation. He just drank from a can of soda.

"I believe he's changing your words and I'd do it too, really. What you wrote would be normally said by a creep and not someone..." Seamus looked at Mark, but seemed to find no suitable adjective. "Someone like him!"

"Well, in my defense, there are girls whom, if you don't get straight to the point with them, they don't understand what you're trying to do. Here you go, your turn."

Seamus dropped a three beside the ten.

"What kind of girls do you get together with, huh?" he asked with a grin.

"I think those of the same bar we're going to, hammerboy."

"Touché. But Marky wouldn't say that in a thousand years."

"So, according to you, how would he do it?"

They both looked at the young brit and laughed.

"He would say nothing. Shite, this guy is so... 'unique' that we can't even do the wingman stuff properly."

"Hey, you despise my job." James faked a hurt voice.

"It's scary what your brain could think, Porter."

"Hooray. I go for fourteen."

Seamus made a scowl and put an eight on the three.

"Eleven."

The short brit grinned satisfied and took his ace.

Mark heard laughs, standing out from the bunch of voices and whispers in the cafeteria. He looked away.

Mike had made Jordan and Eliza chuckle somehow. Yumiko, in front of them, gazed at them with a small smirk. Erik, between the noise, turned in his chair and looked towards the SAS table, but focused on Mark.

With a little curve on his lips, he directed a thumbs up and then returned to his initial position.

The young brit was surprised and a little confused. He then found Yumiko's gaze, who stuck out her tongue.

He could also consider her an acquaintance, according to the many times she had dragged Masaru out of the workshop.

"Hey, Mute." He heard her voice by just imagining the scene.

He hardly had answered her any greeting, but he nodded a couple of times.

"It's a 1% progress, isn't it? Ah, damn." Mark thought, realizing that his roommates were looking at him again.

"Now are you checking out Hibana? Bold move, mate. "

"Marky is totally a stallion, huh?" James dropped a two onto the table.

"Eleven." Seamus put a nine on that card and left this build beside the other. "Isn't she dating Echo?"

"Nice one. It seems so, right? Though Hibana looks more like an older sister than a girlfriend."

"If she hears that, you'll win a kick in the nuts."

"Haha, I know how to dodge, Cowden."

Mark looked at them both again. They seriously gave too much importance to his actions. After several years of practically ignoring his existence, were they going to follow each of his steps as Jackal would do?

After a couple of minutes, Mark caught a glance of Mike approaching as he did a quick scroll on his phone. No good memes to be found.

Nah, he didn't even watch the screen at all. His eyes were lost on his crush.

"Done, Porter," he said as soon as he reached the table and dropped into his seat.

"It was just one thing you had to tell Thermite, old man."

"If I'd say it directly like you, Mark would have looked like a shitty perverted stalker."

"I told you so. Deal the cards, Porter." Seamus interrupted and took his five cards with him.

"It's not that bad." James gave two cards to Seamus, then to himself, and repeated once more. "I don't think Mark would do so badly for being direct."

"I don't know where do you find such masochistic girls to accept you in their bed." Mike chuckled.

"There is a bit of anything in this world."

James looked sideways at Mark. The young brit was already facing him, with his usual bored expression.

Suddenly the canister operator opened his eyes wide open.

"Hey old man, is there any plans for this afternoon?" He asked Mike, not hiding the emotion of his voice.

"No. What do you have in mind?"

"Nothing in particular, I just wanted to borrow the VR for an experiment."

"I can't let you use it if it's not for training purpose and you know it, Smoke."

"It's to help Mark with the 'you know what'"

"Oh." Mike snickered. "Then it IS a training. If Six doesn't find out, it'll be fine with me. But only one hour, Porter."

"I think an hour will be more than enough to teach the basic manners to this knucklehead." James answered, aiming a quick punch to Mark's face, but he stopped in the middle and calmly returned to his seat.

Mark didn't flinch, following with his eyes each of James' moves.

They spent a while in silence. The smell of freshly prepared food began to invade the cafeteria, but the kitchen's door didn't show any signs of movement.

The operators began to get even more eager, but word had spread about how Monika yelled at Seamus, so no one dared to knock on the door again.

At the table of SAS members, Mike had joined the game. Apparently dragging his adopted son across the base was another form of entertainment.

"Oh! I almost forgot." James took out his phone and wrote a short message. Mark peered and manage to recognize the name to whom it was sent.

"We'll need a girl if we want the experiment to work." He winked. "And there's no better option, I think."

Mark raised an eyebrow, confused. What do Twitch have to do with all of this…?

Oh. Maybe a girl whom he had talked with before might be the answer.

"Well, she replied that it could be fun." James checked his phone after it buzzed.

"Any girl would be lucky to have Marky's attention." Seamus grinned with irony.

Mark rolled his eyes and with no better idea, he began to scroll again, searching for something interesting.

Almost twenty minutes later, Marius, Dominic and Elias got out, one after another from the kitchen, with a giant pot each.

They deposited the contents in the buffet, then the first two went to sit on a free table, and Elias returned with the pots to the kitchen. He entered and closed the door again.

Since the buffet already had those personal trays for everyone to serve themselves, the cafeteria began to have a greater movement. None made any trouble, as they knew fighting inside Hereford base was an unnecessary waste of time and possibly blood.

Seamus served himself first. No one questioned it because the Scotsman seemed to be starving. Then the rest began to serve themselves quietly and returned to their table.

Mark tried to take advantage of the confusion to retrieve his gas mask, but James responded by taking it away, and shaking his left index finger from side to side.

He was tempted to accuse him with Mike, but that was only useful when Porter behaved like a real pain in the ass. If not, the old man would laugh, and much.

Then he decided to take a low profile and wait at the side of the cafeteria, by the gap between the buffet and the first tables, waiting for everyone get served, and in the end just do it himself.

Anyway, the food would be more than enough after seeing Elias and Monika coming out with two more pots, along with the beverages.

He was reading some sad meme that reminded him of the good times he had lost in his teen ages for being super intelligent, when suddenly he saw her. His heart skipped a beat.

Grace was there, standing in front of him. As always, she wore her hair tied in two braids, highlighting the white strands that characterized her. She had taken off her beanie, but the rest of her clothes were the usual ones. Only in summer he had seen her with those suspenders.

It didn't matter at all. She would look beautiful anyway.

Mark took an instant look at her face. It was a reaction by now. He noticed her lipstick and her dark eyes, being close, like that day.

Then looked away at his own phone, trying to ignore her existence. It frustrated him being Mark Chandar.

However, something he honestly didn't expect in a thousand years, completely messed him up.

Grace closed the gap, tiptoed, leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. Then simply said:

"Thank you."

With a sheepish smile, unusual in her cocky attitude, she left behind Elena, who had apparently been waiting for her all along. He followed her with his eyes as she left, while his fellow defender operator gave him a thumbs up.

A few seconds later he sensed his cheeks burning. The right one more intensely, where she had kissed him. Her lips didn't have that side effect, did they?

He waited for Grace to return to her table, and went to serve himself, trying not to get anyone's attention. Despite this, he couldn't avoid some operators' greeting or jest. He couldn't blame them, what just happened didn't occur every day.

Still feeling the heat, he served his food as quickly as he could.

When he was about to grab his drink, which consisted in a simple lemonade, he met Taina, whom he greeted with a nod, like he used to do every time he encountered her.

She replied with the same expression, but curved a tiny smile, a feature extremely uncommon in her.

Mark wanted to ask what could make the bitter Brazilian interrogator laugh, but his ability to articulate words had not yet returned. So he only raised an eyebrow.

Taina in response, gave Mark a slight hit on his shoulder, then grabbed her tray of food and left, but not before whispering:

"Nice one, doggo."

"Dog?" thought Mark. He wanted to understand what Taina said, but she had already returned to her lonely table.

Without further ado, and avoiding uncomfortable glances, he returned to the table of SAS members, where Seamus had already finished half of his meal.

"Hey, handsome. She left some lipstick on your cheek." James noted with a mischievous smile, rubbing his own cheek with his left index finger.

Mark let out a small snort, automatically rubbing the place where Grace had kissed him.

"You have no lipstick, son. But well done. I think you're not necessary anymore, Porter." Mike clarified, before taking sips of his lemonade.

"You sure, old man? If I hadn't taken action, Dokkaebi wouldn't have approached him." James replied. "Have your hormones swarmed you, little one?"

Mark looked at him. In part his roommate was right, Grace would have kissed plastic if his beloved cover were on.

At any rate, he couldn't picture that image in his mind, preposterous in many ways.

He had controlled his reactions well, according to himself. Unlike normal circumstances, he was still here, without his protection for the outside world, and with his vocal cords not working.

Not everything could go smoothly.

He blinked a couple of times and concentrated on his food. He had nothing to answer to his fellow defender.

"If that's your way of being appreciative, you're welcome." James shrugged and continued eating where he had left it.

"You two are doing a lot of show for a kiss on the cheek. Are we in a high school show?" Seamus commented, after swallowing a large bite he had taken.

"You thought so as well, Seamus? Ah, it makes me feel young again."

Lunch passed with no major incidents.

Even if Mark couldn't keep Grace's kiss away from his thoughts, Seamus' comment was true. He was overthinking a simple act between two people.

Was it that simple? Really, was it? He didn't know what value the korean girl would give to it. Neither could he get that shy smile away from his mind.

What in the bloody hell was going on? Was that the clue he needed to asking her out of nowhere? A clear path to a positive answer? Or was it just an incomplete smile and possible doom for his hopes?

"Hey, Marky. You alright? You look pale." Seamus asked, having finished eating a while ago.

Mark came back to himself. He waved his hand to minimize the worries.

"I guess. You can always go see Doc if you feel sick. I'll go get a nap, see you at three."

"The plan was at three? Oh, ok. See you then." James replied as he finished the last of his tray.

"The earlier the better. Prolly we'll take even more than an hour." Seamus said as he walked away, leaving the cafeteria.

"I don't think the old man would be bothered."

Mike just came back from leaving his tray of food for cleaning in the dishwasher.

"If it's an hour and a minute, I could ignore it. If it's more, not." He warned, with a serious tone. "I know you hate paperwork, Porter. Who knows what might happen."

"A delicious threat to start the afternoon. Thanks old man." James replied wryly.

"You are welcome. See you later."

That said, Mike left, many operators were already gone, and only those who arrived late remained in the cafeteria.

"Well, I also have things to do." James commented, despite having only Mark as a possible member of a conversation.

He merely gave a sleepy eyes' expression for an answer. His roommate still had his gas mask on his side of the table.

"Do you have something to tell me? I'm not Grace, so you can talk to me, Marky."

Mark growled. James was being a nuisance, seriously.

"I need my mask, idiot." he whispered, with much effort.

"I've barely heard you, what...?"

While James responded, Mark stood up and tried to retrieve his mask. They didn't struggle, neither the canister lover blocked his move.

He just let Mark take it and retreat back to his seat.

"Amazing. We just noticed that you can talk without an unnecessary object. Another progress, Marky." James took his empty tray and took it away.

When he returned he stopped at Emma's table, who was still eating while talking to Julien. He talked to her for less than ten seconds and she nodded at the end.

Mark, putting on his gas mask, finally felt in his comfort zone, taking a deep breath to give himself a bit of drama.

"Three in the afternoon in the VR room." Porter told him when he returned to his table.

"I can't refuse, can I?"

"Do you have anything better to do? Not including your jammer?"

"I guess you don't either."

"You can't complain." He approached so the rest wouldn't listen. "We are so close to the prize!"

"She is not a prize, Porter."

"I meant the date itself, not her. But I like how you are defending her, Mark. Nice going."

"Uh... Okay, I'll go. In return, stop doing unnecessary shows, please."

James bowed, not even bothering to hide the irony of his grin, and left, with a quick pace.

Mark sighed. A two-hour gap incoming.

What would he do in two hours? He hadn't touched his jammer in several days, but he didn't feel like going to the workshop. Nor was he a fan of physical exercise. It seemed like it would be another afternoon watching some random stuff on his phone.

The living room, twenty minutes later.

Mark had the entire place for himself, and chose to enjoy the breeze that came from a window. His mask lied next to him, because wearing it was pointless if no one was around to show an inexpressive and antisocial façade.

For a moment he remembered Marius' birthday, and then wondered how, being elite soldiers, they could enjoy social events like any other human being.

He recalled his first real-field mission. He was forced to kill a terrorist member to avoid his own death. He didn't feel sorry about killing a madman, but the act itself, of taking his life.

If he hadn't been able to control himself, he would have ended up throwing up inside his gas mask.

One of his squad mates had to hit him on the head, hard enough so he could recover from dizziness right away.

In the course of many missions, he noticed that a lot of his teammates had lost their social capacity in themselves, but they became exceptionally skilled at work.

Skilled at killing senselessly, with their own lives on the line.

So the cost of doing this job well was losing most of the social skills. Fair trade, he guessed.

Mark hadn't been keen on making friends, so he didn't care much. However, he took that to exorbitant levels, until he earned his own code name and never removed his gas mask off his face.

When he arrived to Rainbow, he had only spoken with Thatcher before. He hasn't met the other two. He knew Sledge used a hammer and Smoke was a troublemaker.

Neither he cared too much about them, because when he was a private, he also shared a room. But these were weird compared to his previous roommates.

They also shared a certain social environment between them instead of ignoring each other. Especially Porter, who even talked to some of the members of the other teams.

He knew Cowden went out to bars on free weekends, and Baker was the superior, having to receive reports every week, paperwork and other boring stuff, even for Mark.

He couldn't understand them. He supposed everyone had their own way of dealing with the burden. The burden of killing.

Which was Grace's way? Her super elaborated cruel pranks?

He remembered Taina. He understood her the best in that way because they were pretty alike, with their silent personas.

Though he wasn't a specialist in 'enhanced interrogation techniques', like her.

Timur's way was obviously drawing and painting. The rest remained as a mystery. Despite saying that with time they became used to this kind of work, it would never be 100% assured.

Pulling the trigger was always going to be hard.

He could spend more time thinking, but he preferred to look for some good mix of music to hear. Just when he had chosen the calm sound of Synthwave so he could rest on the couch, he heard footsteps approaching.

Leaving his earphones on, he put on the gas mask again, then looked towards the entrance.

Yumiko made a sudden appearance, and stopped at his side.

"Hey, Mute." she gave a slight punch with her fist on his shoulder. Her usual greeting.

"Hibana." He nodded.

This scenario repeated itself over and over again, like dealing with Grace in the workshop.

Now that he thought about it, both were similar. So why was he attracted to the Korean girl and not to her? How weird. Maybe it was the magic of fake glasses.

Mark shook his head. He felt stupid about his recent brainwork.

He turned the volume up to the music and saw Yumiko interact with the big TV that stood on the opposite to them.

Several red letters appeared together forming the word "Netflix". The Japanese attacker dropped herself to the other end of the sofa where Mark sat, and started looking between movies and series to watch.

The young brit raised an eyebrow. Normally the operators who had this kind of hobby did it in the comfort of their rooms. However, he decided not to intrude. He closed his eyes and focused on the music.

After five minutes, he gave up. He couldn't connect at all with the calm sound.

Mark opened his eyes. Yumiko was watching a TV series related to heaven, hell and the cliché angel versus demons.

He turned off the music and removed his earphones, and started watching.

It ended up entertaining him, but the background story was still missing so he did not fully understand, even if he tried to.

When the chapter ended, Yumiko, who had laughed at even the bad jokes, looked at him.

"I didn't know you were into Netflix series, Mute."

"I am not. This one's nice, I guess." Mark shrugged.

"Well, I plan to watch as many chapters I can today. You can stay if you wish."

He answered with a nod, focusing on the TV again.

After an hour, Mark and Yumiko were still watching the same series, expectant of what might happen.

They had talked more than ever, although this refers to a few words in the case of the young brit asking background story questions, but not enough to make himself a nuisance.

In a random moment, Yumiko took the remote control and paused.

"You're behind Grace, right?"

"..." Mark was caught off guard, but manage to silence a gasp reflex.

"Ha. I don't blame you, you wouldn't be the first. But you would make a good match for her."

"Uh... Thanks?"

"I don't know you that much, but your presence isn't as irritating as I thought, and you are even more patient than Masaru. With that features, you already passed a fairly high fence."

Mark gave her the sleepy look and tilted his head to the side, amused.

"If you had brought me something to drink I would have considered going out with you. No kidding."

He let out a slight chuckle.

"Just ask her out. It's not a big deal, and you might get a surprise."

'Just-ask-her-out.' Those words again. But this time, they were from a woman.

Without much to answer, he nodded, again.

Yumiko shrugged and pressed the play button.

They watched for a while longer, when suddenly Mark's phone vibrated. A James' message.

"VR room. Now."

He remembered the master plan. He wasn't too excited, but somehow he had to get close to Grace.

Well, in a way not directly influenced by his troublemaking roommate. At least now he had Seamus' assistance.

"Omw." He replied, putting his cell in his pocket.

He stood up, made a slight bow of thanks to Yumiko, and left the living room.

He couldn't help feeling annoyed with himself when he found connection to the music instantly when he turned it on again. The section he had to walk was less than a minute trip, but enough to be nostalgic for the song itself.

Nostalgia for an experience he hadn't lived yet. Like love.

The VR room was on the first floor, near the workshop. Usually the door was closed, because no one without authorization could use it. Although in theory it was available to anyone who wants to practice, the old man was in charge and did the exact opposite.

The only program Mark had seen was the 5 versus 5 matches where he and four other defenders fought against five attackers for victory, either by hostage rescue, secure area and bomb.

He honestly hated to see Moni destroyed, even if it was just data sent through his sense of sight to his brain, so he didn't pay much attention on the days he had to attend this kind of practice.

Things got even worse when he had Bandit or Kaid on his team. The old man annoyed him enough when he was on the opposite team with his EMP grenades.

When he saw the door half-closed he took off his earphones, beginning to hear voices. Mark decided to peek inside the room, avoiding a possible interruption to the people talking.

"You tell me that it doesn't work now, Echo? We have only one hour, mate!"

"It's not my fault, Porter. Give me at least a little while to see if I can solve it."

"How much? One minute? Two, maybe?"

"Five. Maybe ten."

"Ah, this is horrible."

The room was quite big. It had enough space for two booths, each with space for up to five people, and for these five to have no problem using headsets and other devices.

Between the two booths, stood a desk with a control PC, connected with a powerful projector, capable to transmit the entire image, large enough resemble a cinema.

A ceiling device projected this image to a panel, parallel to the PC, allowing the image to be seen by the controller.

From this mentioned PC, the environment, missions, actions and other participants in the practice were monitored. Normally Masaru was in charge, but if he got chosen to participate in a match, he'd just leave everything ready and take part of the test.

It wasn't complicated, but they'd rather had an expert to handle it.

The room was pretty much empty, besides a couple of windows and furniture for those who wished to appreciate the practice and a water jar on a table.

Emma and Seamus sat in one of the couches, watching the discussion of the other two operators. In fact, only she, because Seamus was asleep with his head tilted back, snoring softly.

Masaru sat in front of the control PC. He was typing on the keyboard and looking for something in the screen, his pupils moving from left to right.

James stood by his side, visibly annoyed, throwing upwards a canister and catching with the same hand.

"Are you sure it's not a problem with the program?"

"I already told you it isn't. It's a compatibility issue. Something has been misconfigured and I can't find it."

"Well, shit." James looked at the door and found Mark, changing his face to a chirper one immediately.

"Finally, you decided to show up!"

"You told me to come here, Porter."

"And thanks for doing so. I didn't feel like dragging you."

"What's the matter? I know some programming." Mark offered.

"Hm..." James put his free hand on his chin, reluctant to answer.

"I have trouble with the custom background sound working correctly. The rest works." Masaru spoke aloud, still searching.

"And is music that important for what you want to do?" Marked asked.

"Of course it is!" James replied, covering part of his annoyance with his usual grin.

"What's this all about? If I may ask."

"Not yet. When we have the headset on, the two of you will know."

"Uh huh."

Mark went to sit between Seamus and Emma, greeting the latter with a friendly bump.

"Porter didn't tell me what's this either. I reckon Echo already knows, huh?"

"If he's messing inside the program, I take it for granted."

"Do you think it's going to be something weird? I'm the only girl here."

"I doubt it. Masaru is too serious for that."

"Haha, just kidding. You wouldn't be involved in that kind of thing, right Mute?"

Mark shook his head to Emma.

They both stared at the empty image of the projector. When it didn't show the program, it maintained a dark blue image with white letters that said "No signal".

"Ah, at last, I found it."

"What was it?"

"There were many endings missing throughout the sequence." Masaru pressed the enter button once. "Already fixed it."

"I never had doubts about you, Echo."

"Yes, yes, I know. Leave the sentimentalism apart and let's start."

"Guys, wake up. Put on the headsets like a normal VR test and let Echo know when you're ready." James said with a command tone.

"Aaah, finally. Wait, did I fall asleep?" Seamus looked everywhere, as he suddenly woke up.

"Nearly half an hour, Sledge." Emma answered, looking to her red nails.

"Well, enough for a short nap. Let's start at once."

The three stood up and saw James already wearing a VR headset, turned on. He was on the first seat in the attacker's booth.

"Uh, isn't Porter a defender?"

"Sledge you will go with the defenders with Mute." Masaru indicated from his PC. "Twitch, you'll go with Porter."

"Gotcha."

When they were ready, they did like any VR test, giving the signal with a thumb up. Masaru did a single click with the mouse and the light of everyone's headsets started to glow.

Unlike James and Seamus, who kept their normal cheeky and stoic expression respectively, Emma and Mark dropped their jaws slightly as the program started.

Masaru's victory smirk grew wide, as he watched his achievement from his comfortable seat.


	5. Social Simulation.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Few references here. Mark developing socially. Slightly.

"Huh. It looks better than the frigging Theme park."

The feeling of the VR tests was always the same. The view changed from time to time with certain content updates, making it look a lot more realistic. And little things too, like Tachanka's little figurines.

Even if they had to focus on the mission at hand, nice details were good to see.

"It's, it's... what's the word..." He took a brief pause. "Aesthetic! Just what you like, huh?"

Mark tried to move, but got distracted. Seamus' comment was true. The sky had a combination of pink, violet and purple that made it relaxing to look at, and the moon looked yellow in the distance on the horizon, as if it were a lunar eclipse. Under this there was a city's black shape, contrasting all the colors in the sky.

It kinda felt like night, but lights were bright enough to drive away total darkness.

He heard a car engine starting, and quickly looked where Seamus was. He had an unusual normal expression with a cigarette between his lips. He held the steering wheel with only one hand, and the other was tuning into different radio stations. Then he stopped, grabbed the cigarette between his fingers and freed the smoke he had in his lungs.

"Oooh, this is a nice one."

" _This is Fever 105_..." a deep voice announced. Mark could swear he heard it somewhere before, but couldn't remember where.

He saw all the scenery behind Seamus began to move. Then looked ahead, the city started look near with every second that passed.

It felt cozy with the sight, hear and touching senses, but he knew he was sitting on something comfortable outside this whole reality.

He took a quick look of his own hands. He had a pair of mittens on each, letting his fingers roam free. Well, as free as they could. It seemed very detailed, could detect even his small fingerprints. He tried to change weapons as he normally did in the tests, but his HUD denied the request, only showing his fists and some weird badge.

"Uh. I don't plan to face Porter unarmed, Seamus." He turned to see the car driver.

Now that he examined his face, Seamus seemed to have been rejuvenated a decade, as if he was in the middle of his twenties. He wore a black shirt with beige trousers. On his left wrist he had a golden watch, probably a extremely expensive one.

"We beat the shit out of Porter with that badge, and we win I guess. I also got one."

"You look like a high schooler, Sledge." Mark curved a small smile. "Is VR here supposed to change our looks?"

"Dunno, but I'm still more handsome than you." Seamus looked away from the road to see him. "Ha. You look like Porter said. Ridiculously cute."

He moved just enough to see his appearance through the rearview mirror. Mark looked exactly the same in his 19 years old. It was nice as he examined himself, although it was only a scanned image.

"What kind of VR test is this? My HUD's acting weird." He said as he tried to change weapons, only managing to take out the badge.

"We don't need guns here, dumbass. Have you ever been in a party?"

"What do you mean?" Mark raised an eyebrow and turned to him.

"What you heard. In your teens did you go to a party?" Seamus grabbed his cigarette again.

"No. None so far."

"Ah... Well, we made you one. The closest to reality."

"Wouldn't it be better if you just took me to a pub and get to know random women?"

"We've tried for years, and we just need you to know how to talk properly. Not to get in her pants. But that's the goal nevertheless.

"Uh. Ok."

"Inviting her to dance and stuff."

"Wut."

"Social interactions Mark. It's something you'll need if you sincerely want that girl."

"I know. I don't know how to do that, that's all." He was repeating that sentence many times today.

"Well, that's the purpose of this." The song changed. "Oooh, the legendary Saturday Night."

Mark liked disco music, so he didn't mind Seamus increasing the volume a little bit.

"Damn, this kind of music reminds me of my sadly gone youth." Seamus wiped away an imaginary tear.

"You're not driving anything, right?"

"No, I'm just enjoying the aesthetic view. Haha, I like that word." He started humming and moved his shoulders rhythmically.

Mark just noticed his entire HUD had disappeared. Neither the 2 vs 2, nor his operator image nor Seamus' hammer were noticed on the little tower's team. He didn't bother to ask again, and just went with it.

He examined now the badge. It was a police one, along with his name as a identification. It seemed to be useful.

They arrived to the city. There was an 80's theme everywhere, which didn't look that bad. Despite people dressed like Travolta did in that movies didn't really exist by now, he could imagine how clothing fashion was at that time.

"Right on the sweet nostalgia, don't you think?" Seamus commented, turning around a corner.

Mark hadn't experienced the 80's, but he didn't dislike retro. Plus, sometimes he considered it was the best time for music. God bless the feelings the Synthwave could give.

They arrived at a entertainment establishment, which looked modern in comparison with the theme outside.

The entrance had a sign with bright letters that said: " **Malibu** " with a small palm tree and coconuts on each side. Underneath was a reflecting glass door, with two guards stationed, one looking menacing with his dark glasses and dark suit, and the other with a list in his hand and a thick cord blocking the entrance, which he opened to let the guests in.

Seamus stopped the car just in front of it, turned off the car and grabbed the keys.

"Let's go at once. We only have one hour." Seamus said, getting out, calling a valet who was nearby. Mark nodded and followed him.

The car was a Chevy, but he wasn't an expert, so it could be from any year. A valet dressed in red arrived quickly and respectfully greeting both of them, and caught the keys as Seamus threw them at him.

"Nice detail." he murmured, as they went to the entrance.

There were plenty of people there, lining up for some reason.

"If you are not on the list you will not enter." said one of the guards looking at the unlucky guy who was first on the line, with a menacing face. "Don't waste my time, mister."

Not caring much about the scene, Seamus ignored the line and stood next to the scared nameless man. The guard automatically changed his face to a smile.

"Mr. Cowden! We were waiting for you." He immediately removed the cord, but hesitated when he saw Mark. "Isn't he a little young to enter?"

Either one of the two, or the program was perfect, or all this was rehearsed. The second seemed more likely.

"He's a colleague of mine. Don't worry, mate, he's even older than myself." Seamus replied, discreetly sliding an obvious digital bill into the pocket of the guard's shirt.

"Have fun." the guard winked at him, letting them pass.

"I could show him the badge and get inside." Mark whispered to Seamus.

"It's not a nice idea to show everyone you are cop. It's a double edged weapon around here."

Mark followed his roommate inside the establishment. He frowned as he noticed Seamus new what it was from the beginning.

The first part of the building had no roof, showing the coloured sky. There were a few people there, who were enjoying music, in and next to a pool, full of virtual water. Others drank some kind of liquor, sitting on the grass, with an empty smile.

Both sections separated by a path of stones in the middle, which led to the real establishment, where the psychedelic lights were noticeable and where the music came from.

"Haha, the wonderful world of vice." Seamus said, speeding up the pace. "Strange, you can speak. You took off your mask to get in, right?"

"Obviously. How am I going to put the headset with that thing on top?"

"Just annoying you. We're here."

Seamus opened the door and gave way to Mark.

"Thank you." said the young brit sarcastically.

The spectacle inside was what he imagined. People dancing as a couple, in a group, or drinking near the bar. There were also those who did both at the same time, and those who were giving love without any objection.

"Uh... What do we do now?" Mark asked, looking around.

"Have no clue. Let's go to the bar first." Seamus asked pointing his head in that way.

Both went there, avoiding colliding with the crowd, and sat on stools, next to each other. The bar was huge, with a lot of types of liquor he didn't knew that existed. A guy with a beard and long brown hair was silently cleaning a glass cup with a handkerchief, enjoying the music.

"The same as always, Mr. Seamus?" the bartender asked him, as he noticed his presence.

"Yes, yes. Please, serve this fella something really strong. He is going to do a life-changing-thing today."

"Understood." He replied, chuckling, leaving the glass in front of Seamus, putting some ice cubes and serving him from a bottle that was just beside him. Then he left.

"A pity that this drunkenness isn't real, nor this rum." the scotsman toasted silently, then took it all in one sip, leaving the glass with a low clink on the bar.

"Uh..." Mark wasn't sure about he was supposed to be doing.

"Oh. Do you see that girl over there with the blue dress and gorgeous ass?" Seamus pointed with his head to the crowd, turning a little bit.

"The one with the ponytail? Yes." The young brit saw a girl dressed in blue, dancing gracefully. He hardly couldn't see her.

"You have to invite her to dance, or ask her out."

"Ah, ok."

The bartender had arrived with a bottle with liquid similar to the one before, but it had the appearance of being a much stronger drink.

"My friend Johnnie Walker. Good choice." Seamus clapped slightly.

"May I fill your glass too, sir?"

"Thank you." He lifted his glass to the bartender.

Once served, the bartender went to attend a couple who had just entered the bar.

"That one with the ponytail... isn't she Emma?" said Mark, without even touching his drink.

Seamus began to sing distractedly, already having his glass empty. He was dodging the question.

"It's impossible for you to get drunk, Seamus." Mark rolled his eyes, annoyed.

"No, but your brain does the job. Try it."

"Hm..."

Mark examined the brown liquid in the glass. He didn't considered it refreshing at all. However, that thought slightly reminded him of something: That drink wasn't real. He drank it quickly.

"Wow, wow, not so fast, man." Seamus laughed.

His eyesight went blurry for a few seconds and then came back to normal. He felt a bit of his blood go through his muscles.

"Your mind deceives you, doesn't it?"

"Answer me. Is Emma the ponytail girl?"

"Dunno, to tell the truth. She looks very pretty, doesn't she?"

"And how am I going to invite her to dance if she's dancing with another guy?" Mark, said in a confused frown, just noticing her laughing with the man in front of her.

"You better take another of these." Seamus pointed to his empty glass.

"I don't think it has any effect on myself."

"Hey, bartender! Another round."

Before he was tempted to drink another whiskey, Mark stood up to approach the girl. He had to learn. He had to do it. If he failed, well it wasn't going to be the first time, or the last.

As he approached slowly to the ponytail girl, another girl blocked him. She had blonde hair and a wide smile. She suddenly took his hands, surprising him.

"Hey! Let's dance, pretty boy!" she said, as she moved to the rhythm of the music.

Despite he knew she wasn't real, he didn't know how to run away. Wait. If she was Twitch and the ponytail girl was a random mob? Damn it.

Mark tried to move as best he could with the VR controls, but honestly he didn't know even how to dance in real life. He tried his best while that song lasted, until she let him go. She probably got bored because he didn't speak to her during the whole piece.

Until now the test was a total failure.

He turned to look at Seamus at the bar. He was gazing at him already, and gave him a toast. Then drank another glass of whiskey. Mark, somewhat confused, returned to his position.

"Hey, what am I supposed to do here?"

"I already told you, the girl in the blue dress."

"Only that?"

"Yep. Try to irradiate confidence. If you need me, I'll be here."

Mark again left Seamus alone at the bar and headed to the dance floor. However, just a couple of meters from the girl approached, a kind of imaginary force field stopped him. Trying to go through it, he ended up in the bathroom.

He washed his face. Although it didn't feel refreshing at all, it was useful for thinking. A small radio beep heard, a laughing voice spoke.

"You think you are special, but you are like every other young boys on their first time courting a girl."

"Seamus?"

"Who else do you think? You remind me of myself. Ah, even more delicious nostalgia."

"Is it necessary to steal her?"

"Steal? What do you mean? A woman doesn't belong to anyone unless she decides it, Marky."

"That does not help me."

"Try to invite her a drink. It's on the house."

"Roger."

With a little more confidence, he left the bathroom. The force field had disappeared. She was alone, leaning against the wall, headbanging to the rhythm of the song now playing. He moved a little closer, but he couldn't think of any way to open a conversation.

However, she detected his presence.

" _You'll be detected in 00:05..._ " Appeared in white letters covering a bit of his sight. The HUD again showed up, but only briefly, and then vanished with the other stuff like the zero ammo he had left.

She looked at him and gave him a small smile. Mark greeted her with a slight bow. Her smile didn't flush him like Grace's, but she was attractive enough to make him sweat.

"Oh, ah." He couldn't articulate words. Shit.

She blinked many times, as if waiting for him to say something worthy to answer.

"May I offer you a drink?" He tried very hard, as when he claimed James for his mask.

She giggled and nodded. "You may."

He tried to recognize her voice as VR normally didn't change it, but couldn't match it at all.

She couldn't be Emma. However, he chose to follow Seamus' orders, and see what happens.

Both went to the bar together, as the coloured lights fell all over them. Seamus was still there, but this time fiddling with the half-empty glass. He only greeted him with his eyes, and with a small expression with his eyebrows.

Mark gave the seat on Seamus' left to the girl, and then he sat next to her.

"Which drink, sir?" The bartender greeted.

"I'll have another scotch." Mark said solemnly, as if trying to impress her. She giggled briefly.

"And you, lady?"

"A glass of chardonnay would be fine."

"Coming right up."

The bartender left. Again Mark was speechless. A total disgrace. She seemed bored, double disgrace. He had to think something, but fast.

"Try saying your name first, dummy." A whisper was heard on the radio.

"Mark Chandar. Nice to meet you." He focused his attention on her.

"Hi, Mark. You can call me Emily." Yes, her smile could be pretty, but it didn't match Grace's.

Again, silence. His inexperience was a total curse.

"Try talking about the place. It's not too hard, mate."

"Nice night, don't you think?" It was the fastest thing Mark could think of.

"It's true, I've never seen such a beautiful sky."

"Not as much as you." He felt his hands suddenly cold.

No! It was too soon. Hell, what was he thinking?

"So cheesy, mate." Seamus didn't even bother to silence his chuckle.

"Aw, thanks. It honestly took quite a while to choose which dress to wear tonight."

"It was worth it, I think." Sudden fear stopped. "Do you go out often?"

"Nah, only when work allows me and when I have someone to go out with. Going out alone is not my thing."

"Oh, what do you do for a living?"

"I work with electronics. Despite I always dreamt of being a traveller, I have to settle doing circuits and that kind of stuff for now. What about you, Mark?"

SAS members on duty were forbidden to reveal their identity to anyone. He thought a VR test didn't count, but decided to not take the risk. Anyway, it was going to be boring and weird to talk about that.

"I'm a cop." He showed her his badge. It had to be useful for something at least. "I've had a day off after many weeks and I used it well, I think."

"Nice." She put a hand under her chin, examining it.

"Your drinks." The bartender suddenly appeared with a bottle on each hand.

He left one on the bar and crouched briefly, taking out two new and clean glasses, and filled them with the alcoholic liquid.

"Finally." Emily commented, settling in her seat.

"Nice." Mark replied, while the barman pushed their glasses towards each.

Mark sipped it all at once, while she slowly drank her brandy, making the greatest attempt to enjoy it. Apparently.

"A cop, huh?" Emily asked when she finished her glass. "You don't plan to arrest me, huh, officer?"

"I don't think I have reasons to do it." Mark smiled at her. "Yet."

"And what if I tell you that if you don't take me home, I'll make a bit of tipsy driving?"

"You just drank one glass. I don't think you'll get drunk that easily, Emily."

"Wanna bet?"

"I will consider taking you, but no promises."

"Yay. Bartender!"

They took one more drink each. This time slower.

"Who did you come with? A little while ago you told me you weren't here alone." Mark spoke so fluently that he felt totally out of character.

"Oh, with a co-worker. I saw him leave a long time ago behind a girl with a nice butt. His favorites."

"The one who were you dancing with?"

"Yes, that idiot. He's a total womanizer and just got here to get some new victims. You came here on your own, Mark?"

"No, there you see my colleague Seamus." The scotsman barely raised a hand. "He is supposed to be the designated driver, but apparently we will both go home by taxi."

"Unless I claim you first, hm?" Emily smiled seductively.

"Hey! You can't forbid alcohol for me! I have rights!" Seamus protested out loud. A good performance or he was brainfully drunk.

She turned to see him for a second, and then returned her attention to Mark.

"Haha, I guess you can't forbid the sweet feeling of drunkenness to anyone."

"Absolutely."

He could swear that Synthwave was playing on the dance floor now. The funny thing was that people kept dancing as if it were normal.

"Tell me more about yourself, Mark. How did you become a cop?"

"Hm ... I think it was a closed decision. I was always good at science and calculation. So either it was ending up locked in a laboratory, or active working in the field, and here you have me. If I wasn't a police officer, I would have enlisted in the army. "

"Oooh, so you're looking for action, huh?" She leaned towards him sensually, accentuating her breasts, making Mark go back slightly, causing him to look the other way. Although his own gaze felt magnetism to her chest, it was not enough to make him.

"I guess so. You? Where do you want to travel?" He preferred to change the subject to avoid his discomfort.

"Where money and destiny direct me. There is no place where I don't want to leave my mark."

"You are her Mark now? Such a prodigy..." Seamus whispered on the radio.

"Where have you gone already?" asked Mark, trying to ignore the tease.

"Most of Europe already. I would like to travel to America, but there isn't any chance for now."

"You'll know when you're ready. Make sure to bring souvenirs, okay?"

"Oh? Don't worry, I'll bring you something. For now, let's drink like there's no tomorrow!"

She was beginning to make weird giggles. He supposed it was for drinking too fast. It wasn't real for him but maybe for her, it was.

However, Mark again saw blurry. He didn't feel nothing out of place, it seemed the person he controlled was getting drunk. He began to fiddle with the scotch glass, releasing a soft hiccup.

"I told you not to drink so fast." Seamus' voice was totally muffled with the music.

Mark looked at the scotsman, who had been with the same glass for a long time. He seemed to be thinking, but he was actually amused watching the show of Mark Chandar's first courting.

Despite he still had some liquor left in the glass, he decided not to touch it.

The bartender had already come to serve her third round to Emily. She had a slight pink tinge on her cheeks, but she kept drinking without any worries.

"Drinking to kill sorrows?" Mark asked, trying to distract her somehow.

"No, I don't think so. Have you ever wanted to drink just for the pleasure of getting drunk?"

Mark shook his head.

"No? Then why do you drink? To impress me?"

"Mark, try to divert the conversation. No answer to that question is correct." Seamus voice was a little concerned.

"I drink to give myself courage to ask you for a dance." Mark shrugged, slightly certain that telling the truth was the best option.

Emily started laughing and then took a sip of her brandy.

"If you are telling me it means that you haven't drank enough yet."

"Let's dance, Emily." the young brit chuckled, and before finishing his glass, he offered his hand.

She was about to accept, when an intruder came from nowhere. He wore a red jacket with gray sleeves and dark pants. His slightly brown hair was still visible with the wild exchange of colored lights.

"Emily? I thought you ditched me again." His voice sound distorted first, and then turned into normal.

"Jim, you don't need me to chase girls, at all."

This Jim seemed to have ignored everything she was saying.

"You are the designated driver today!"

"Not anymore. Marky will take me home, right?" Emily jumped from her seat and hugged Mark slightly, placing her head on his shoulder.

"Hoho. They finally tamed you, huh?" Jim crossed his arms. "Be careful, man. This girl is slightly insane."

"Look who's talking!" She squeezed Mark's arms, making him shiver at the contact. What Seamus had said was serious, the mind deceives the body.

"Hey, hey. Quiet. Go dancing. Time is gold." Jim sat in the seat where Emily was. "Bartender, some beer, please."

"Coming." replied the bartender, who had been watching the show all along.

Mark, since he had everything done and honestly there was no reason to be rejected, he drank what was left of his glass, and took Emily's hand.

"Let's dance." He said again.

She let herself go with him, just when a dance genre song started.

* * *

After a while, three figures were sitting together at the bar. The bald, the red shirt guy and a girl dressed elegantly.

"Are you sure he won't notice?"

"He's enjoying himself with a non-existent lady. Let him live the dating sim fantasy."

"Ah, bollocks. So why did I bring Emma for?"

"She was useful anyway. If we hadn't brought her, Mark would have suspected from the beginning."

"Hey! I thought Mark was going to woo me!"

"You too? This is ridiculous. I'm starting to think we are in a romantic comedy shit."

"I'm joking. It was going to be fun to see emotions of a young first-timer."

"Eh, Echo, how much time do we have left?"

"About thirty minutes. This was quick. I think I put it on easy difficulty." Masaru's radio voice laughed.

"Everybody starts on something, I guess."

"And if we make Emma do the move?"

"Such as?"

"We can make the situation spicy, don't you think?"

"Don't be cruel with Marky. It's just his first try."

"And he bloody succeeded. Don't worry, I'll make the least cruel possible thing I can think of. Echo, you can control the girl, right?"

"I can change her interactions, but not directly. Everything is set, Smoke."

"Hm, I think I have an idea."

* * *

Retrowave casual beat helped with the clumsy dance steps Mark were doing. He had never practiced before, so he imitated the rest. Emily seemed to enjoy herself and having a good time.

There wasn't much physical contact, but it was because he didn't want to. He didn't sincerely know what was stopping him. Although Mark knew that he was dancing with Emma, he couldn't touch her without feeling self-conscious.

It was too obvious. Emily is similar to Emma and Jim to James. He thought this was going to be like a kind of puzzle but apparently not. Neither did they have so much time, right?

They spent two songs dancing and she approached him, almost yelling into his ear that she had go to the bathroom.

Mark nodded and returned to the bar, with nothing else in mind. He found the two he had previously left in there, plus a new customer. She wore a white blouse, and her hair was loose. He unintentionally caught a glance of her legs. She had a black skirt that covered just over her knees.

He wanted to sit to Seamus' right, but that was occupied by a lonely man in glasses who seemed to pity his own life and his employment. The scotsman and "Jim" seemed to be listening his sad story. So he only had the option to sit on the girl's left.

The bartender was already waiting, cleaning a glass. This time he offered nothing, just looked at him.

"A beer please."

In less than ten seconds, he had a beer jar served just before him.

He started drinking from time to time, waiting for Emily to get out of the bathroom.

However, he finished it, and had to ask for another. She still didn't return. He tried to look at the door to the women's bathroom, but strangely just a crowd went dancing, blocking his view. He began to headbang absentmindedly, as he recognized the song.

" _Mud on your face, your big disgrace..._ "

He looked sideways at the girl on his side. She drank a kind of red cocktail, but he had no idea of its name. It was adorned with a lemon slice and a sorbet. She had her elbow resting on the bar, with her hand on her cheek. She seemed bored, with an annoyed face.

Mark was deciding whether to speak to her or not, when she realized that he was checking her out.

"You need something?" she said with a firm tone, enough to sound a little bit aggressive. Her voice didn't sound familiar either.

"Nope, sorry." he replied, a bit scared at the sudden question.

"Hm, ok." she returned her attention to her colorful drink, taking a few sips.

After awhile, Mark was starting to feel irritated. Emily wasn't coming back. Emma had taken off her headset, maybe? But Seamus and James were there, talking about some random topic with the unfortunate mob.

"Uh, Seamus, what should I do now?" Mark whispered on his radio, hoping no one but him would hear.

"Emily haven't returned yet? Well, I guess you can go for another girl, right?"

"What? The mission was inviting someone to dance. Not anything else."

"At a party you don't dance only one girl, Marky, unless you're in the pitiful row of the married."

"Uh huh, riiiight. Emma left or what?"

"Emma? I don't know what you're talking about, mate."

"Emily wasn't Emma?"

"No, I don't know where you got that. Anyway, we don't have much time, enjoy what you can." Seamus cut the communication with a click.

"Hey!" Mark raised his voice, unconsciously.

What Seamus said was too ambiguous. Was it all planned by his colleagues, or not? If not, it couldn't be so bad, right? However, he only understood one thing: Go for another girl.

Easier said than done.

He looked to his right. She still had the same expression and the same drink. Its volume had been lowered to its half, and the slice was gone.

She looked pretty. He could go for her too. Wait a minute, where did the sudden trust in himself came from?

" ** _This isn't real._** " He thought.

"Greetings." Mark murmured, trying to get her attention. Was that too formal?

"Hi." She replied, taking a sip and looking at her drink at the same time. She didn't ever bother to turn to him.

"Nice night, right?"

"Not really."

"Why?"

"You really want to know?" She turned to see him.

"Yes." Mark finished what was left of his drink in one sip.

"Well, some asshat ditched me. I'm just waiting to this." She pointed at her red beverage. "To get finished."

"Do you really want it to end?"

"If the disc jockey keeps queuing up the awesome music, then I may go for a second. There aren't many places of good taste now."

"I agree with you. That's why I dislike going out."

"And if you don't like going out, what are you doing here?"

"Relax, with a little alcohol. Police life is stressful."

"Oh, so a cop, huh? Got your badge?"

"You don't believe me?"

"I just find hard to believe you are the youngest police officer in the world."

Mark complied her demand, and took out his only gadget, again.

"Sergeant Mark R. Chandar, woo. What do the 'R' stand for?" She looked at him, then his photo.

"Not a fan of giving my second name. All I can tell is short."

"So young and being a cop. I bet you have a lot of girls behind." She returned his badge.

"Nope. I don't like the 'one night stand' thing."

"Ho? Is that so?"

"Yeah, and what's your name? If I may know."

"Jane. Just Jane."

"Well, Jane. May I get you a drink?"

"Are you trying to impress me, big boy? I can buy my own."

"Well, I tried. Bartender, another Johnnie Walker, please."

"Ha. Good choice. Another Bloody Mary for me." Jane raised her hand briefly.

"Immediately." The bearded bartender, super attentive, answered.

* * *

"Look, Porter. Our little Marky, flirting with his first real girl."

"If this doesn't leave him ready for Grace, nothing will."

"Unless we have made him a total womanizer."

"I don't think so. Besides I think he has only eyes for her. Didn't you see his reaction when Grace kissed him?"

"Yes, totally like a boy when he sees his first crush. Ow, nostalgia again."

Both of them toasted two glasses of whiskey, full of ice cubes with a clink.

"For the effort." James announced.

"Aye. By the way, you mentioned that you had another plan at lunch. Was it this one?"

"Nah, this one came out of nowhere. I know Kapkan and Frost like to go out on weekends and by chance tomorrow is Saturday. I gave them the small idea of a double date with those two."

"Even if I approve the dating idea, why the extreme sequence on the chat? There will be a total misinformation, Porter."

"It will make it fun. I never thought the matchmaker job was so entertaining."

"I guess. We still can hang out with him later and see his talent naturally in the bar."

"Hm, Could be good."

"Bartender! Give me another imaginary scotch, please."

"Imaginary?" The beard guy repeated. He seemed confused.

"Oh, sorry about that. Just give me another one." Seamus cleared his throat and pushed his glass.

* * *

"So, wanna dance?"

"With you?" Jane replied with a rejective tone, but couldn't hide a giggle.

Mark was doing a good job. Not many had managed to get her attention, but Mark's young appearance and inexperience made him look interesting. Even if she wasn't into boys.

It seems, because she was sure that outside everything was going to be the same. He was going to be the boring man who couldn't speak without his mask.

Mark didn't seem to have realized that it was her. He just simply believed that she was another NPC created by the environment.

That got him to speak freely, without his own limitations. She could swear he had taken the police raid he had just told her from a TV series.

He had a certain talent for telling stories just as Seamus had.

"Yes, with me. If you don't want to, it's fine. While you dance on your own, I'll go drown in alcohol and blame you."

"Haha, no sweets for you."

"Is that a no?"

"Let's dance, dumbass." She stood up, setting aside her glass.

"Yessssss." He stood up as well, and had to grab the bar to avoid falling on the ground.

They both went to the dance floor, although Mark seemed already drunk. However, he danced the retro very well in that state. She frowned in confusion. Where did he learn that?

Little she knew that Mark was pressing anything he could.

" _And no one's gonna save you from the beast about to strike..._ "

She liked that one, and started to follow his dance partner's guide.

After some while, the song had changed to a slower one. She glanced to her left and saw Seamus and James seemed to be playing cards again.

Trying to go unnoticed, Emma guided Mark inside the crowd dancing and she embraced his neck, pulling him close.

He seemed to be surprised in addition to his character's drunk face. Not knowing what to do.

"You have to put your hands on my waist, Marky." She whispered in his ear, drawing a little closer.

"Uh, it's fine. Thanks for the -hic- tip."

They danced everything they could. A little pop, some disco, and a bit of retrowave that he didn't sincerely know how to dance yet.

However, something unexpected happened.

Mark saw Emily dancing with another guy. He didn't know how to react, but he knew was enjoying himself now with his new partner.

He supposed it would hurt but it didn't, thanks to the program script.

It didn't matter, he was already fulfilling the mission. Despite dancing with an NPC and no trace of Emma, he was doing it.

Still, if this was a hide and seek game, he wanted to find her.

There had only been three girls with whom he had contact in the duration of the program, so Emma had to be one of them. Unless she was a random girl still being hidden.

Hell, he was overthinking it too much. He locked his eyes on Jane.

They were in a slightly compromising position, with her head resting on his chest, dancing a romantic song. He found it hard to control his character, but could manage to dance without pressing randomly everything.

"You're Emma, right?"

"About time, Mute."

He felt his usual fear to physical contact, but remembered he wasn't touching anything. He suddenly felt free from his chains and blurted out everything he had on mind.

"How was I supposed to know that Emily wasn't you? They almost copied your liking, as electronics and travelling!"

"That was Porter's idea. How did you know about my tastes?" They kept dancing as she turned to see his face.

"I heard you mention them a couple of times. Hard to ignore you at the workshop, really."

"Aw, you flatter me."

"It was suspicious because everything with her was going too perfect. At least you scared me with your feminine essence."

"Should I take that as a compliment?" Her voice had a sweet and menacing tone.

"Ah, of course." His unease started to show up again. "Do you think I-hic-ready for Grace?" He managed to say, before losing access to his vocal cords.

"You are ready, Mark. From the moment you met her."

"That was beautiful. And cheesy as hell." A voice was heard, but not on the radio, but with the same clarity as Emma's character.

James and Seamus appeared from his right, laughing.

"One last dance? Masaru told us that the hour ended a bit ago. "

"I would be offended if you didn't ask."

Although none knew very well how to dance the song that was playing, they seemed to enjoy the moment. They made weird dance steps as all their characters were drunk, which made the surrounding NPCs laugh a lot. The group didn't care as they didn't exist anyway.

"We should make a challenge or competition in this, huh?" Seamus commented, trying to keep up with Porter.

"Gonna beat you anyway, Sledge!" Emma said, dancing just as she knew.

"Yeah, try to convince the old man." Porter panted.

"I can convince him." the young brit said with a robotic tone.

"If you say something, he'll think I am the one who is coercing you."

"Masaru, it's time already?" Seamus said with a booming voice, try look upwards.

"Yes, it's time." The voice of the japanese resonated, like the loud music.

The sound suddenly stopped and the image was lost, leaving only a few blue letters that formed: "Program finished."

"Aaaaahhh, the taste of reality." He heard Seamus say, he was probably stretching.

Upon hearing that "real", all the courage he had gathered in the program vanished. He took off his headset and could not fight a single second against his instinct of covering himself with his mask, which was right next to him.

"Ah, the wonderful taste of reality." He murmured.

He felt unready again. If Porter knew this, oh, this was going to be a massacre.


	6. Dream.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Develope didn't work. Not quite he expected to.

The workshop was almost empty, and Masaru Enatsu had returned to work.

Despite his main drone he even used to bring himself potato chips was working optimally, for him this was not enough. He was now working on his secondary drone as his main one was resting peacefully on an adjacent worktable.

He was enjoying the peaceful and quiet lonely ambience and was working faster than usual. He had already wasted enough time with his SAS colleagues.

It had been a long time since he had left them and Twitch in the VR room. Anyway, his only job was to monitor the program, and so he fulfilled his part of the deal with Porter. Now all Masaru had to do was wait for him to do his part as well.

He had to admit, he had fun. It hadn't crossed his mind that his innocent project that slightly changed VR could be helpful to someone like Mark. Although he found it hard to believe that someone like him never had played a single dating sim as they were so popular in young and hormonal boys.

Mark was seriously a complete novice on the dangerous mission he was on.

It was getting dark. Since it was a day off, it was very likely that many operators went out to have fun, or have a casual meeting in the living room at night. Maybe both.

Masaru wasn't interested in any, and he planned to work even past midnight. He sent Yokai to turn on the lights.

While he watched as his drone returned flying back to its place, he remembered that he hadn't seen Yumiko since lunch. That was a bad omen. He shrugged it off and continued his secondary drone.

Yet he knew his roommate was coming here anyway. Ignoring her text messages was the worst bet he could've taken.

After some time of welding and messing up electronic mini-cameras on his gadget, he heard footsteps approaching. A female voice was humming a song he couldn't recognize, but with just that, he had already recognized who she was.

He stopped his screwdriver and looked at the door. Yes, it was who he expected to be. She had her laptop under her arm, apparently to work with the Logic Bomb.

Realizing that he was already there, Grace waved briefly at him.

Masaru just shook his head. Many times the same scenario had been repeated. However, something about her looked different. Her smile had changed from being mocking grin or even a fake one, to being joyous, or somehow reflecting the feeling of happiness, or sweetness, being as optimistic as possible.

"Nice." he muttered, refocusing on his work. Mark's progress was so far so good. Seeing that kind of smile didn't happen everyday. If ever.

 _"It's gonna take a lot to drag me away from you..."_ Grace began to sing nonchalantly, annoying the japanese, on purpose, of course.

Her voice was bearable, but it was sharp and loud enough to distract him. Her karaoke abilities weren't that good.

Without thinking twice, he decided it was a perfect job for Yokai. Masaru quickly went to see his wrist device, then watched his drone fly right above her. A small hit to the head wouldn't hurt. Not much, to say the worst.

* * *

"Really, Mark? For real, mate?"

"I said no."

"But you said you were ready! What happened?"

"Not in the mood to talk."

James had already opened his mouth to continue arguing but Seamus interrupted, with a strong throat clearing in the distance.

Only Porter and Mark were in the small SAS common room. The young brit lounging all along the sofa, undoing the clasps of his gas mask. Normally that was an end of a conversation for him.

The other was sitting on the armchair, sprawled on it as well, his legs hanging in the air. He didn't seem too fond of the situation.

"Leave him alone, Porter. If he doesn't want to do it, it's his problem. He's not a kid." Seamus was in his room, changing his clothes.

"Uh huh. Hey Mark, mind if I ask Grace out? "

Mark sat and shrugged, he had enough. He got up and went to fetch his tablet in his room, grabbing his mask on the way.

Seamus turned off the light in his room and went out. He had sports clothes on.

"What's wrong with that mute IDIOT?" James clenched his teeth, trying to control his annoyance.

"You know he still can hear you loud and clear, right?" the scotsman laughed as he closed his door.

"That's the point of speaking ill of him, isn't it?" James narrowed his eyes, turning to him.

"It seems like you haven't lived with Marky the past few years. Come on, wanna hit the gym? At least it'd help with your disappointment."

"A'ight. Give me a minute. " James jumped up from his seat and went to his room.

Seamus slowly went to James' armchair and settled him back to its place. He had the bad habit of pushing it backwards.

"Remember that time isn't patient, Mark. And look at your badges, maybe that's the answer you are looking for."

Mark heard, but chose to be still on his bed. He knew which words the badge had on. He thought that was a motto to be used on war, not to a problem related to the opposite sex.

"Who cares who wins?" James chuckled, still in his room.

"Not this time, Porter. I honestly wondered when the motto would serve us after the torture in Brunei."

"Me too. Let's go. I don't like sharing my precious air with a depressing living being. " the short brit was out of his room, with the same clothes type of clothes Seamus was using. Comfortable enough for CQC training, too.

"I suppose. See you at dinner, Marky. " Seamus followed James, who had already gone out into the corridor and closed the door. It was better not saying anything else.

Mark waited on his bed for a while, chilling with the silence. There was nothing else to do for the day anyway. He had no desire to move at all.

Grace supposedly was in the workshop, so the idea of working was dead as soon as the thought came by. It wasn't his thing to go to the gym and Porter was being worse than a headache, so it was better to avoid being in his presence. So the best choice was staying quiet, for now.

However, he had already warmed both sides of his pillow. Unacceptable. Carefully, to not drag the blanket with him, he got up and walked to the common room and lay across the couch. It wasn't the comfort his bed offered, but for some reason he felt cooler.

For a moment he wanted to sleep, but the light right above his eyes didn't let him. As soon as he turned it off, the only remaining light came from James' room, who had left the door wide open.

The window inside was letting him know that the sun was still shining. It wasn't much, but the breeze that came through was pleasant.

He returned to his starting position, looking at the ceiling. He didn't want to think, because that would make him start fighting with himself, again. Trying to override his own mental functioning, he focused on the old reliable: Music. The slow beats were useful to relax, or at least it was for the other three who lived with him.

He wasn't used to listening to anything out and loud, as he was a little selfish with sound, but sometimes he did because it improved the atmosphere. A lot.

"Turn that off, Mute. I hate sleepy music." the old man couldn't bear any kind of wave stuff. For him music had died with the old rock, a.k.a. Queen or Rolling Stones. English stuff.

"I like lofi, Mark, but honestly I'm going to fall asleep if I keep listening to that while I work." muttered James, one of the hundreds of times they'd shared the long work table at the workshop.

Seamus never complained, but had fallen asleep many times in its presence. Couldn't blame. If Mark wasn't used to the many hours of study with that kind of quiet music involved, he himself would have fallen asleep twice as many hours in the workshop.

It felt good, even he couldn't feel the breeze directly. He had forgotten his mask in his room, but it was not necessary at all. It wasn't as if Grace was magically going to appear outside. Not this time. His senses started to feel numbed and his mind became lost with his thoughts.

* * *

"So, are you ready to ask her out?"

Mark didn't know how to tell him. It had been a game, and it had only been once. Was that really what it took to be ready? In which reality?

"Maybe." He didn't want to say no, after seeing that Emma and Echo had taken a bit of their time off to come to help him. He could disappoint the other two later.

"That's enough for now, I guess." James seemed satisfied with that answer.

Masaru said goodbye to them almost instantly, after asking them to tidy the place up, emphasizing "as Porter had promised." The french woman was still there, who had settled on the sofa from before, watching the members of the SAS do the work. It wasn't much, but it was necessary. Mike liked things clean as the usual old recruit instructor, and using the VR was a favor.

Mark got a seat at the other end of the couch where Emma was. It wasn't his thing doing housework, but James didn't even ask him anyway.

He felt that his presence wasn't needed at all, but the chances of finding something to do in his room were less than 1%. Although there was the idea of going to the workshop. Moni could use a improve.

He didn't like being in the same place as other people, even if these were his roommates. Sometimes they even made it more complicated, but this time it was a very good opportunity to learn what it was like to participate in a small casual meeting. If this could be considered one of those.

Mark had to gather as much experience as he could. Normally he only listened and answered. That's why talking to a girl casually was so complicated for him.

Seamus had taught him that "Hello" was a nice pick up line. At least on easy difficulty.

Their conversation topic was super trivial, obviously something that Mark couldn't meddle in, simply because he couldn't figure out how.

So he decided to look at his cell phone, only catching a few loose words from each sentence said. James and Seamus certainly didn't seem thrilled to be cleaning the equipment, but they also knew it was going to be a boring afternoon.

At that time he understood that everyone wanted to return to the VR program. Truthfully, he did too. Neon lights could be addictive in excess, and also the supposed feminine contact.

In a random moment, the old man arrived, but only to make sure that they had already stopped using the machine. James was the only one who saw him, his visit being so brief that he didn't even had the chance to wave at him. Nor did it distract from the topic of conversation.

"Resounding success in high school, Porter? Really?"

Mark sighed. He hated this one in particular. Especially since he had nothing to say.

"Yeah. I like to weigh my options." James returned her attention to his french colleague.

"Oh? These "options" weren't blind, were they?" Emma made the quote gesture with her index and middle fingers, mocking him.

"I can assure you: They weren't. Now you, Twitch. Something exciting in high school? "

" _Oui_. There were bunch of "options" to choose from. Parties, late night studies..."

"Hoho. Can't deny that. How many boyfriends have you had?"

"Boyfriends? I like girls, Porter."

Mark chuckled softly inside his gas mask. His friendship with Emma always came down to this phrase: "Shame you are not a girl, Marky. Nights here could be so much _better_."

At least when she was drunk.

"He just wants you to say it yourself, Pichon. I don't think it's necessary to tell you he has rare kinks." Seamus clarified, with a disgusted tone, as he ran a small vacuum cleaner down the office chair Masaru had used.

"Hey, not so subtle, Cowden. As I was saying, how many girlfriends have you had? "

"Hm... only two. Enough to satisfy my curiosity." Emma winked at Mark when he accidentally met her gaze. He beared the sudden warm blood in his face and didn't flinch.

He already knew it. In any case, in the drunk memories he kept she was always present. At least until Seamus and James showed up.

"Ooh, suddenly, you can get very interesting, frenchie."

"Is that so? What about you, Smoke?" she asked, turning to him, crossing her legs.

James had opened his mouth to reply, but Seamus spoke before him.

"There were two. They both got scared and ran away. Can't blame them."

Mark curved a small smile. He had already heard that story. James had only loved two women in his life. So much that he forgot to have his "options" available when they left. Legend says he emptied bottles of whisky on his own those nights, with a bunch of women cheering. He didn't even remember their names.

Although it had happened very few times in the Hereford base, listening to anecdotes from James drunk and sad was worth it. The price was high anyway: Leaning on Seamus' shoulder as the three of them struggled to not fall to the ground during their return to their room. James never drank alone, and Mark was also resistant to alcohol, but his body seemed to sacrifice balance for memories. However, the hangover was inevitable.

"At least I had loving partners, sweetie." James automatically turned his annoyance into a mischievous look, intending to hit him back.

Seamus just shrugged. Mark knew he didn't like to talk about that.

"Even if I yearn for my youth, I have more fun now." he looked at himself, in his current situation. "Sometimes more than others." he added, as he sat down where Masaru had been, using the vacuum cleaner on the keyboard of the control PC.

Mark didn't know where that thing had come from, but James also had one, which ran through every seat in the defenders' booth. Surely those things had been inside the room from the start. Mark shook his head and continued to pay attention to his cell phone.

"Now, now, don't be mad. Better to love and lose than never to have loved, right? " James said, as he closed the booth. There wasn't much to clean up there anyway.

"Words from the guru of love, huh?" Emma crossed her arms.

"Meh. Porter has as much as a guru than Marky does as a talker." Seamus replied, spinning on his chair.

"Haha. You should take me one day to those bar hangouts, they look like fun. "

"Anytime. Having a drink with someone who isn't neither Maestro nor Porter would be nice. I warn you: I don't share any prey."

"Don't worry, me neither. And Mark? Can't he...? Oh right, he obviously can't do well as a wingman."

"Without the mask he can't speak, remember."

"He just needs enough alcohol. Vodka, if we are serious. By the way, if you like girls, why did you get so cuddly with him in VR? " James asked, with excessive curiosity.

The young brit stopped his scrolling. He had a slight interest in her response.

"Can't a girl at least dream of hugging a handsome boy in the middle of the neon lights?" Emma laughed, leaning her back.

It didn't seem like a serious answer, but it described one of the lines in his bucket list. Mark sighed and returned to his endless search for good memes.

"What do you think about that, Marky?" James said, without looking at him, entering the attackers' booth. His voice had the usual teasing tone.

Mark looked at him, his expression empty. He took a deep breath, channeling the little social energy he had gathered in the VR.

"Yes, I would like to dance again."

Seamus clapped, with a smirk. James whistled. Mark rolled his eyes, it wasn't that weird. Emma turned to her left, and looked at Mark thoughtfully.

"Mask off. " she simply said.

"Uh ..." Mark automatically went into defensive mode, and looked at Porter. He was innocently still cleaning, even though he seemed to not be doing anything.

He analyzed the situation. Oh, not again.

Actually, he had already done it with Porter and Seamus, with a lot of effort and years of confidence. Lunch was a clear example.

Obviously, drunk was much easier. The problem was Emma, and alcohol was not an option. He was determined to show at least some progress to the one who had helped him.

Slowly he undid the clasps of his mask, and took it off, before the eyes of the Scotsman and the French with Porter deliberately ignoring him.

His comfort zone disappeared. The new oxygen felt suffocating, despite being exactly the same. He barely endured the desire to put it back on. He never thought he would prefer that Porter had taken it from him. He was shaking, He had not planned this. He hardly swallowed, fighting his own reactions and took a deep breath.

"Aw, just say you love me, Marky." Emma forced a smile, trying to make him feel ease.

The effect was completely opposite. The discomfort began to grow throughout his body. He had to find a way to run away, as usual. However, he felt a little guilty. His colleagues had invested time in him.

Ah, fuck it.

"Ha-Hi, Emma." he closed his eyes as he spoke. Two and half words, was it enough?

He opened his eyes. She was still looking at him. Seamus was giving him a thumbs up, while Porter just looked at him, surely feeling pride of the "grasshopper".

"Dance." he managed to continue, but very low.

He acquired his empty expression again. Trying to look as normal as possible. However, he felt flustered, with warm blood flowing in his face, and feeling coldness on his hands.

"Dance what?" Emma moved a few inches closer, enough for him to feel her feminine presence in all its glory.

He couldn't take it anymore. He quickly grabbed his gas mask and put it on. He relaxed to the point of ending up leaning on the armrest on his side of the sofa.

"Well, I tried." Emma returned to her initial position leaping gracefully backwards. She didn't seem disappointed, but neither was she proud.

"Are you kidding, right? He said four-words-in-a-row. It's a brand new record for him. " Seamus smirked, emphasizing his words showing four fingers.

"I don't think it'll take only four words to ask Grace out, Sledge."

"Nah, love has nothing planned for anyone. Who knows what might happen."

"Well said." James had suddenly appeared next to Mark, patting him on the shoulder. His little vacuum cleaner was gone, like Seamus'.

The young brit had already regained his composure, and was looking with disgust at his roommate. Although it was already habit. He didn't know any other way to look at James.

"Not bad for a first timer, Mark." Emma commented, trying to get him to talk again.

James and Seamus looked at each other instantly, letting out a mocking chuckle. Apparently they both had the same idea.

"That's what she said?" Mark had heard that joke from his roomies so many times that he had said it in reaction, but the last word had an uncertain tone, perhaps unconsciously reacting to Emma's presence.

The french woman opened her eyes wide, not waiting for that answer. Honestly no one expected it.

"Hey! I was going to say it! " James protested, curving a corner of his mouth.

This laugh was contagious. Soon Emma and Seamus were laughing too. Mark had never gone along with it in that regard. His own habit of never laughing without the presence of memes didn't let him.

However, he remembered the VR. Jane and Emily had made him laugh, somehow. He chuckled, and realizing what he had done. He gulped, canceling the expression, but it was already too late.

"See? He CAN laugh! The VR is incredible."

"It's not _that_ impressive." Emma raised an eyebrow. "Is it?"

"He has laughed as many times as his girlfriends' counting, Twitch."

Mark looked at Seamus, narrowing his eyes. James usually said that. Nonetheless, it didn't hurt his geek pride. Well, maybe. Just a little.

"But he's all laughs with me! At least the times we talk... "

"Uh... any electronic and alcohol been involved?" James asked, remembering Jäger's party.

She thought for a moment, putting her hand under her chin. Of course, whenever Mark laughed with her or his tablet or liquor served by James was present.

"Oh."

"You see? He's progressing and that's all that matters. "

"I thought we had something special..." Emma brought her right hand to her own heart, hurt. She faked a sob, but couldn't hide a grin.

"Crocodile tears, huh?"

"Aye. Well, I'm hungry. See you later. " She stood up and went to the door.

"Thanks for the help, Pichon. It's good to know there are still nice people around the base."

"I didn't do it for you, Porter. Mark is a strange enough individual and anyone would be curious about him. Even Taina."

"Unfortunately, I think she hates me. You were the only candidate we thought of."

"Oh, then call me if you need anything. I like ex-pe-ri-men-tation." she said getting to the exit, emphasizing each syllable. Then she waved her hand as she was leaving.

Porter whistled, obviously checking her backside. He spent almost a second staring at the air after she left. He didn't expect her returning almost instantly, surprising him and the other two.

"I heard that Dokkaebi was going to the workshop." Her gaze locked on Mark. "Go get her, tiger."

With that said, she left. The canister user kept looking at her, fixed on the place he wasn't supposed to be looking.

"Ooh. Tremendous wasted potential. "

"She would never notice you, mate. Anyway the closest one to get in her pants is this masked fella. " Seamus had also stood up, and had approached the sofa. "Any plans for the rest of the afternoon?"

"Total boredom." Mark muttered, feeling comfortable after quite a while.

"Good plan, isn't it?" Porter asked, adding sarcasm to each word. "But I have a better one for ..."

"We can go have a drink tonight, right?" Seamus suggested, purposely interrupting James.

"I think it's about time for me to go. It could be good, huh?" Mark was completely out of character, realizing he had to go along with Seamus.

James had his mouth open, but didn't say a word.

"Oh? What am I seeing? A changed Marky?" Seamus raised both of his eyebrows.

"Yes... Yes..."

The young brit was quickly out of ideas. He wasn't very good at improvising.

"Or we could get Marky to the workshop. Yes?" James looked excited, though he swallowed his annoyance for not letting him speak.

"Great." Mark answered, with his sad and muffled voice.

* * *

At least he had already got rid of Porter. He had always felt his perseverance was admirable of him, but now it was counterproductive. James wasn't going to give up.

Mark sighed. The beats had calmed him down enough. He could close his eyes and stay there, just existing. His internet search algorithm never disappointed.

He didn't want to change anything. He liked life as it was now, although he couldn't talk to girls or having "selective mutism", medical terms thing. This "thing" had progressed positively, yes, and could be useful, in many areas. He had a sense of humor, very well attenuated, but he had it deep within.

Both options were bad. It wasn't just feeling insecure because she could say no. In any case, he could overcome her refusal by finally agreeing to go out with his roommates and get drown in alcohol to burn his sorrows, and possible nicotine. As long as it wasn't whiskey or vodka, he'd be fine with it, although his self-esteem and psychological health were at stake. Maybe his own mutism turns into something worse and he won't go out for lunch again, like he used to do.

Besides, he didn't know how to tell Porter AGAIN he wasn't used to chit-chat, at all. And he already knew that. Perhaps that strange human being also liked try new things. Ah, thinking about it like that could be misconceived in many ways.

If, by an unlikely almost impossible stroke of luck, she said yes, it could turn his life upside down, but he was a man of routine, and routine is stronger than love, or so he had heard. Anyway, her smile, her lips, her hair, the slightest physical contact made it all worth it. He was fucking head over heels for her, like a teenager.

A fierce fight with himself was raging. Barely aware of his surroundings, he fell asleep. Her cell phone kept sounding, but the beats weren't enough to be disturbing.

A sudden heat woke him up. He opened his eyes.

Pink mist covered his field of vision. He saw changing lights, as if he were at a club or party. He rubbed his eyes. He could hear ambience music, along with voices he already knew, but there wasn't any people to be seen..

"Hey! I'd never knew you liked hanging out to these places, old man! " Porter's voice was unmistakable. The problem was that Mark couldn't see him. He hardly even could detect any face at all.

"Neither would I, huh. Wow, another girl for me? _Hello_ … "Mike's voice seemed calm and confident, with a seductive tone in the last word.

He managed to see several figures, to later realize that he was sitting, possibly in a strip club, judging that in front of him was a platform, with a brass pole in the middle, with an invisible dancer, apparently. As he looked around he saw other platforms, empty as well.

He was alone at his table, and he couldn't see the faces of the other customers at the other places, although their voices were recognizable.

" _Common love isn't for us_..." could detect a slow effect on a song that he had recently listened to. It was very pleasant to hear, as the voice was deep and went with the flow.

"Oh come on, dude! l chose the blonde! " he managed to hear Thermite's voice in the distance, close to one of the platforms.

"Didn't you like redheads, Trace?" Dominic's voice was heard from the same distance.

"What?! No!" His angry voice turned into a nervous one.

"Don't worry, friend! My lips are sealed." Elias' cheerful voice stood out from the other two, totally out of context. He didn't belong to that place, at all.

Mark smirked. It was totally unlikely that so many operators were in a place like that at the same time, and even negative odds if Mike was among them. He realised he was dreaming. It wasn't possible this was really happening.

Near him was a tall glass of various colors, with an umbrella, and next to it, proudly standing, the pot with the reddish-colored cactus. He curved a smile when he saw it, and caressed the petals softly, as if it were a pet. Its remittent was still there, but next to its name was a heart drawn in red ink, something he didn't remember putting on it.

"What's wrong Seamus? Can't hold your liquor?" Emma's voice dragged her words slightly. Mark turned in reaction to her direction, though he still saw nothing, just blurry figures.

"I like to keeping things on place, Emma, but if you want to contest, then bring it on. Hey, Tachanka! " Seamus called for his fellow operator, his voice not any different from usual.

"Speak up, comrade!" Alexsandr reported instantly, as if it hadn't been necessary to call him that loud.

"You, me and Pichon. The first one to fall pays the entire round. "

Mark chuckled. Those kinds of competitions had happened before. He had seen Emma falling before, and had always repeated the same words for her sake: "Oi, Doc!"

Unfortunately he only saw silhouettes move. It was fun to see how that transparent liquid affected their brains' function.

"Ah..." Mark couldn't get if that was out of pleasure or something else. He heard the clink of glass with a surface, one sound after another, to finally be three. "Another one! We will not stop until dawn!"

"That's how I like it!" Alexsandr held, while Mark could detect his figure move, so that he could serve the other two.

" _Merci beaucoup, mon ami!_ "

Suddenly, Mark saw how girls of different and generous features appeared, one by one. Blonde, brunette, redhead, and some colors were obviously not natural. Some of them positioned next to each brass pole dance platform, and remaining ones vanished behind the pink mist. Apparently it began to dissipate enough to see them clearly move, but with seconds passing, they hid again. Maybe he didn't know enough about female seductive moves and his brain just hid it.

"Oooh. Sight for sore eyes." He managed to hear Seamus, with genuine emotion in his voice, something he didn't usually have.

Mark shrugged. He had never seen anyone dance for him in person. so he associated that his mind couldn't create that idea. Although he could remember some odd movie, right? He was curious.

" _Lights out and follow the noise ..._ " the song felt nice. He seldom listened to songs with vocals, but this one had something... unique. It gave him the same feeling that the synthwave offered, with a touch of sensuality he couldn't describe, totally influenced by the place.

"Whoa, whoa, there's enough James for you, ladies ...!"

The nirvana of the neon lights could be in the middle of everything, but he preferred to stay calm, still, on his seat. Maybe that was what the dream was about.

He focused on the cactus. What could the small plant be doing in such a place? He haven't felt its new owner's presence at all...

He looked at his drink. He took the glass and took a few sips, but felt nothing, although he saw the volume of the liquid vanish. He left it back on the table.

He wanted to deny it, but he felt a bit lonely. Laughter could be heard in the distance, mostly female. The sharpness of it contrasted the deep sound of the song, which still continued.

Maybe he wanted to see a girl dance for him. Mark was a boy after all.

In front of him was still the empty pole dance platform. He guessed that maybe he wasn't thinking enough about it. Suddenly he saw a figure arise, with that damn pink mist covering it. However, this time it wasn't that dense. The closeness helped this time.

He narrowed his eyes to improve his vision. She was a girl, with a nice figure. She didn't have long hair, or maybe the mist was blinding Mark enough. It could be that she had short hair, or be a man. He could never assure. Never after... Ugh.

Mark remembered something he did not want to remember. He shook his head, focusing again.

He still couldn't see anything. Screw his brain and thoughts. The mist had formed a curtain around her, only revealing her silhouette. She began to dance, accentuating her hips and thighs, while her hands unconsciously guided the lucky viewer's gaze.

Mark leaned back in the chair where he was, grabbing and sipping his again full cocktail unconsciously. He didn't know what to do, besides enjoying the view.

He noticed the dancer was following the rhythm of the song playing. He couldn't imagine a better one for her. In one her moves, as she bent down slowly, hands on her separated knees and wiggling her hips rhythmically, he saw two strands of hair fall from her head and swayed from side to side. He recognized them. He had admired them for a long time now.

Mark blinked several times. He felt sudden heat, the same one he felt every time he met eyes with...

"Oh." he muttered.

_"Who needs to go to sleep, when I got you next to me?"_

The beat started again and the mist cleared, revealing who was behind, just as she accentuated her derriere, as she got back to her feet.

She had blue shorts, which showed her legs almost entirely and her thighs were the meaning of visual pleasure. Mark had been mesmerized, watching her hands ran down her skin. She wore a white top with a heart on the middle, small enough to show her waist and a little bit of cleavage. She had a pair of black heels adorning her feet, and had almost no problem moving around. Her usual beanie was missing. Didn't matter at all.

Suddenly she grabbed the brass pole and began to circle around it, letting her fantastic figure be appreciated. She was doing nothing extraordinary, but Mark could only feel his salivary glands slightly increasing their production.

He had never stared at her chest. It felt... disgusting. But now it seemed like the opportunity, the one and only. He had always wanted to look at her without restriction.

Her face was beautiful, but seeing her entire body was a blessing. The perfect curves. The perfect edges. He couldn't help but feel a little aroused.

She suddenly met his gaze and smirked at him. Mark just noticed then that she didn't have her glasses. He chose to break to eye contact to close his mouth, embarrassed.

She didn't stop moving. She no longer was moving around, but had remained in front of the pole. She had leaned against it, her right hand with a firm grip behind her head. Her braids kept swinging side to side. Maybe Mark was just using that excuse to see what was right underneath them.

Her free hand went to her mouth, accentuating her slightly shiny pink lips. Two fingers, the index and the middle, began to descend from the lower lip. She opened her mouth, letting out her breath. Mark unconsciously waved the pink mist that was gathering in front of him.

Her hand descended tenderly, leaving no part without a splendid touch, while she bent down again, moving her hips, slowly.

Suddenly she leaned forward and dropped herself to the ground. Her butt was fully accentuated, while her chest was a little distance to the platform. Surprising the young and hormonal brit, she raised her head and began to crawl towards him, her eyes thirsty for contact.

Mark felt the temperature rise even higher, and he drank from his cocktail, not feeling refreshed at all. Although he could wish for her to come even closer to him, he knew they were always going to be separated by that dance platform.

Mark wasn't mad at all, because looking at the divinity of her figure was enough. He couldn't deny it, he was excited or that's what he thought he was. He didn't quite know how to describe this. He was a rookie after all.

The edge of the platform had stopped her. Or so it seemed. She rose back to her feet, still keeping the pace, and slowly went down a staircase, which had suddenly been uncovered by the pink mist. She began to walk to him, her toned figure getting closer.

The distance between them was short. Mark didn't know how to do. He was supposed to be an observer, no... he wasn't ready for this.

Sadly, he couldn't run away from his own mind. She kept advancing, pushing the table softly with her hip, to give her room to move.

" _So come on, come on, come on..._ " Her stunning presence was within his personal space.

The heat had a sudden contrast, with cold blood running through his own stomach. He couldn't move. Not even an inch. Mark still had the cocktail in his hand. She took it and with a quick movement put it away, disappearing.

Without warning, she sat on his lap, leaving a nice view of cleavage for him.

As a reflex, he looked away, but it wasn't that effective. Her dark eyes were a magnet and he couldn't avoid direct eye contact.

Mark felt weird. He wanted to run away, but he wanted to stay. Despite he hated physical contact, this was getting pleasant. He started to smell perfume, the same one he felt at lunch.

 _"Let's get physical..."_ She moved her lips along with the lyrics, narrowing her eyes, sensually.

He couldn't bear it and eliminated the distance between, and their foreheads touched. Her dark eyes glowed brightly. Her lips were closer than ever, at his reach.

She blinked, and playfully got an inch away, smiling flustered. Her hair fluttered slightly, releasing a thin strand, which swayed slightly from side to side.

Mark's body was already acting in reaction. With his left hand he brought her hair back to its place, without missing the opportunity to caress her face. Slowly, fingers going over, lightly brushing her cheek, down to her chin.

It was worth it. It was worth everything he had done so far. The torture of the SAS recruitment was worth it. It was worth having put up with the old man when he got to Rainbow. It was worth the six bullets he was shot in action. Everything for this moment.

* * *

The gym was what could be expected. Divided into Cardio, weightlifting and muscle workout. This area full of pure machines doubled the dimension compared to the CQC square, which was also there.

It had a square painted in three different colors to determine the ring. Yellow the center, green the middle and red the edges. It also had two large benches, mostly serving for spectators, and a place to leave the refreshments and towels.

Taina was almost always there, practicing on her own. Occasionally she was accompanied by someone brave enough to challenge her or her partner. No one could forget when she locked the old man's neck between her legs and made him give up before she kill him, judging by the maniacal grin she made and the deep red tinge Mike's face was getting.

The height didn't matter either. More than once Seamus had fallen before her, faithfully remembering her interrogation in the simulations. Nor did the speed itself, proving she could defeat Eliza, after a long and exhausting fight.

However, only one person in the base had been able to defeat her more than once and make her feel the heat and excitement of an even battle, at the same time. The fucking James Porter.

Taina had never taken him seriously. His attitude, his humor, HE was obnoxious. Nor did he take that much into account in the simulations. Honestly, it was better not to lean on his existence, unless her other three allies were dead.

However, when they fought on "friendly" terms. He suddenly changed his usual grin to a serious face. He caught her off guard, attacking her legs immediately. Normally she used them as lethal weapons, but being defensive didn't work very well for her. After a couple of blocked punches and one evaded leg grab, Porter managed to knock her off balance and knock her onto her belly. He put his knee on her back and immobilized her arms, waiting for her to give up. There was no way for Taina to turn the situation around so she simply tapped her palm three times to the ground.

He smirked and didn't say anything, just went to his companions to celebrate his achievement. With his SAS colleagues they went on to continue doing their routine, while Mark only were riding the immobile bike, as if he wanted to escape and not being able to do so.

Taina had practiced harder since then, feeling disappointed with herself. She was supposed to be her own gadget, but someone had defeated that. Someone who was only in charge of releasing strange yellow smoke to one place and another.

She became stronger and she could defeat Porter in later situations, but she wasn't satisfied. Not until she could crush him and make him beg for mercy.

"I'm in danger." the canister operator muttered as soon as he entered the gym.

She had automatically noticed his presence, but quickly looked away.

"Oh. Caveira is still there. Shadow Fighting, right?"

"Yep. Wanna spar today? I want to practice something new that I saw on the internet. "

"Do you want to show off with me, Porter?" I remind you that your rival is there. " Seamus pointed to the brazilian, who kept punching the air, restless.

"Oh, come on! I won't be that hard on you, I promise. "

"No. I just wanted to do some muscle, to spend some energies. She is always there anyway, if you change your mind."

"Bummer. You know if I miss any hit, she won't stop until my bones are destroyed."

Seamus shrugged. He started to do a bit of arm stretching right next to the weightlifting machine he was going to use. James followed, not sure if he was going to do anything. Coincidentally there was the bike that Mark always used right next to him. Maybe it was the way to spend the extra energy he had.

He pedaled for a while, chatting trivial things with Seamus as usual.

"Hey, hey, Have you played Plague Inc. yet?"

The attacker just looked at him, and shook his head side to side, briefly, before grunting as he started another routine.

"It's just so cool, man. Figure, you can kill the entire human race with a little virus..."

Taina was having a break and apparently heard the conversation too, but her face didn't change at all. In her mind, that idea sound ridiculous, but intriguing. She might look for that game later.

After a while, Porter remembered something. He could annoy Mark a little more.

"I'll be back." the canister user stopped the bike, grabbed his small towel, and headed for the door.

"Huh? Okay." Seamus didn't seem surprised. He just hoped that at least that day would pass with no major incidents.

When he crossed the door, he encountered one of the russians. He didn't have a bad relationship with them, so he waved him briefly, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the towel.

"Good afternoon, Smoke." James was surprised. Normally no one greeted him verbally, not as polite as that.

"Hi Glaz." It seemed rude even for him to not return the greeting.

Both nodded each other, but neither had more words to say. James moved again, with one goal in mind, the workshop.

The base was silent as all light outside turned artificial. There wasn't much noise coming from any room, except for the kitchen, where few operators had sneaked to see if there was any German lunch left.

The workshop light was on. When he peeked inside thirty minutes ago with Seamus, Echo was the only one there, as usual. He expected to find Grace, but disappointed he had to go on with Seamus to the gym.

Now could be the chance, unless Emma was wrong.

He peeked quickly into the room. Bingo! She was there, earphones on her. She was staring at Masaru, as she rubbed her head as if something had just hit her.

Yokai hovered silently above her, returning to his owner.

Preparing for his next move, he hid again by the door, putting the towel over his shoulder. He was sure this was going to bother Mark somehow, so he readied himself, and took out his phone.

* * *

The young brit was upset. It was honestly the best dream he ever had, one he thought it was his personal heaven.

He had never paid premium on any video platform because it wasn't strictly necessary for him, but an advertisement had just destroyed all his possible imagination, and his dream. He was going to hate that woman's voice for his whole life, although he was surely going to forget her in a couple of hours.

He had gotten up to wipe the saliva from his face, which had even fallen a little onto his vest. Fortunately, nothing had fallen on the sofa. A single stain and he had to clean everything. Old man's orders.

As soon as he could, he searched for the song that had been playing. It was a slowed version of the original, which didn't had any effect on him. As he played the previous one, he felt aroused, thinking of a certain korean girl. He sighed, trying to get rid of his impure thoughts.

Within two taps he returned to the lofi, but this time from an app where there were no ads, hopefully.

Having such a vivid dream, he felt like he hadn't even slept at all. Even more, he felt sleepy again. He realized that the sun had already gone down, and the breeze from the window was colder than before.

Leaving the bathroom light on, he went to Porter's room and closed the window, leaving it half-open. Some air had to get in.

There wasn't much in there.

His wardrobe was filled with extravagant clothing, such as flowery shirts, deep red hoodies, as well as the SAS uniform he never wore outside missions. The only thing that could stand out from all this was a black leather jacket.

Not even once Mark had seen him dressed in that. Maybe it was his hidden treasure. He looked to his own clothing, always in the same blue and dark. He had never been interested in fashion itself.

The old man didn't seem to mind either because he looked exactly the same every day.

The rest were the same as the other rooms, plus a lone disarmed canister on his nightstand. On the wall next to his bed he had a painting of two coconut palms, above and covering a woman's silhouette, in the moonlight with the purple sky, her reflection crystallized on the beach. It covered almost 80% of the wall. Mark examined it, as he did every time he entered his room.

James had made it out of pure spray cans, molds and shapes, but it didn't matter. It was worthy enough to be admired. Mark even wished that he had done it outside in the common room, just so he could fall asleep more easily on that sofa.

Shaking his head to avoid feeling numbed in that place, he got out, turned off the bathroom's light and returned to his couch. He lay down and closed his eyes, hoping not to dream this time.

Who was he lying to? The sweetness was addictive.

When he felt his relaxation to its fullest, Mark felt a single sound vibration nearby, interrupting the beats. He didn't move, no matter who it was, he could reply later.

It vibrated again within a minute. Two attempts. Possible contacts were reduced. He opened his eyes.

A small flashing green light interrupted the darkness, coming from his cell phone. Mark had an idea who it might be, but his message was the last thing that could interest him, so he simply reached out and turned the device around.

He usually gave up on three tries, but now he broke his own record and Mark had already lost patience. Yes, his guesses were correct.

Porter had filled his chat with spam. Mark had forgotten to silence him from the last time they had a meme fight. He was about to do it and delete everything, but he noticed that he had sent an image in the end.

It didn't seem like a meme at all, nor was it a weird thing. It seemed to be a photo. He mentally asked that the 257 kb of space to be worth it. And they were.

Grace was working on her laptop. She hadn't noticed the presence of the one who had taken the photo, so it was in her natural attitude. Carefree, her lips closed and her hands typing on her laptop. Her glasses reflected the glow from the white light just above her.

He felt lost, looking absentmindedly at her for a couple of seconds. Then he noticed Masaru, two tables away, staring at the camera. He had noticed him.

Mark didn't know what answer as a thanks wasn't the best he could send Porter, in ANY case. It was an excellent message if he thought about it, despite he was going to delete it in the near future.

What had happened at lunch with Seamus and the old man seeing a photo of her had been a total accident. He felt safe with Porter's absence, but it couldn't happen again.

He stared at the phone, just above his face. He had reduced its brightness as much as possible, and it was still annoying. He wanted to sleep, so he couldn't stand more than a minute of complete inactivity. He put the device back in its place, and pulled the table near, preparing for the immediate future.

Putting up James' annoyance for a few photos of Grace was a reasonable price. If his roommate was still willing to do that fair exchange, Mark would be happy to comply.

He had barely returned and laid on the sofa, and another message popped up.

Without moving anything not necessary, he just reached out and took his phone. Another photo. Curious, he downloaded it.

Grace was closer, and had noticed James' camera. He was offering her a hand, as if inviting her to something. She had stopped typing and was just looking at him, one hand on her cheek and a mocking grimace.

A small message appeared just below the previous one: " _Jealous_?"

Mark sighed. He silenced the chat and wrote three words that he had repeated many times in that bubble: " _Fuck off, Porter._ "

The music was still playing. Surely Porter could keep texting, but he wasn't really looking forward to replying. Anyway when he came back for sure he was going to keep being annoying. Even if what he said was true, he doubted Grace would accept him, unless it was a friendly hang out.

However, he couldn't help but feel something weird in his chest. Would she make the same expression if it was him asking instead of Porter?

" _Who knows?_ " he muttered, adjusting his head in the armrest.

He remembered that he hadn't deleted the photos, but he just let himself go with the sleepiness, until he dozed off again.

* * *

Seamus felt unease at its maximum. When Porter was gone, one of the russians had arrived. As usual he greeted him without much importance and continued with his routine, concentrating on the strength of his arms. However, after a while he began to feel something strange in the air.

He put the weight down in its rack again and used the excuse of drinking water to see what was happening.

Timur and Taina were practicing CQC. Seamus analyzed the scene for a moment. In a normal situation, she would quickly defeat him. It wasn't the russian's specialty to fight from so close.

However, they were both rolling on the square's mat. She was smiling, while he was trying to avoid any possible immobilization. Normally she didn't give a trace of happiness, unless she was fighting with Porter. A couple of seconds later, without much effort, Taina had him already on the floor, completely immobilizing him from his back.

"Magic words, Timur?"

"You are my best canvas, Taina." he replied, looking her in the eye.

Seamus knew, as anyone else at the base, that he painted her face before any mission.

She seemed satisfied with it and let him go. As he stood up, their faces brushed each other very closely.

However, and almost instantly, the scotsman felt two pairs of eyes briefly fixed on him. He choked on the water briefly and had to clean himself, then headed back to his routine. He was going to finish it as fast as possible because it wasn't his thing being the obvious third wheel.

As he was tightening his grip on the exercise object, he heard footsteps right next to him. Porter had returned.

"Well, if reverse psychology really works, Grace will have a date for tomorrow." he said when he stopped, leaning on the machine just next to his roommate.

"You really went to ask her out?" Seamus left the weight on the rack again, finally feeling the discomfort ease away.

"Of course not, Seam. I can be anything but a love wrecker for Marky. "

"To all this, was the phone sequence really necessary?"

"Yes, of course. Thatcher to Thermite to Castle to Blitz to Blackbeard to Valkyrie to Frost to Dokkaebi. Planned to make it even longer, but it was hard to remember if any of them hate each other. " James repeated the sequence like a robot, making Seamus raise an eyebrow.

"At least the ones you chose are cool people. Hopefully they don't distort the message that much."

"I count on it."

Seamus continued with his routine, while James switched between machines, unable to make up his mind.

After quite a while, when Seamus finished, he stood up, exhausted. While drinking water, he noticed that Porter was sparring with Taina, as Timur watched from the nearby benches. With his water bottle almost empty and his towel, he went to enjoy the show.

The sweet night had just fallen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it for now. I know there are a lot of works better than mine so I really thank you for investing your time in this. Take care.


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